


10 Things I Hate About Your Sweater

by EmHunter



Series: 10 Things I Hate About Your Sweater [1]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Office, Anal Sex, Best Friends, Blow Jobs, Bottom Victor Nikiforov, Childhood Friends, Christophe Giacometti & Victor Nikiforov Friendship, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Idiots in Love, M/M, Mutual Pining, Office Blow Jobs, Office Sex, Oral Sex, Phichit Chulanont & Katsuki Yuuri Are Best Friends, Pining Katsuki Yuuri, Pining Victor Nikiforov, Power Bottom Katsuki Yuuri, Rimming, Shameless Smut, Slow Burn, Smut, Suit Kink, Suit Sex, Top Katsuki Yuuri, Top Victor Nikiforov, Victor Nikiforov Needs a Hug, do not copy to another site
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-16
Updated: 2020-05-08
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:14:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 212,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22758376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmHunter/pseuds/EmHunter
Summary: As CEO of one of Europe’s most prestigious business establishments, Christophe Giacometti has standards. His ugly duckling secretary is way below them. So when Victor Nikiforov, his childhood friend and deputy CEO, bets that he will get Chris to sleep with his secretary before the year is over, Chris is more than happy to accept. But Yuuri Katsuki is so much more than just a beautiful swan hiding inside an ugly duckling, and Victor might be perfect in most respects, but he is really,reallyshit at bets…
Relationships: Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov, Leo de la Iglesia/Ji Guang-Hong
Series: 10 Things I Hate About Your Sweater [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1727740
Comments: 670
Kudos: 747





	1. Prologue -                       A King Without a Crown

**Author's Note:**

> This is a plot bunny I've had hopping around forever. I couldn't resist putting Victor and Chris in suits. As you can see from the title, one or the other sappy teen movie might have served as an inspiration initially, though I haven't seen any of them for a long, long time so this is not a rewrite, although there might be one or the other similarity and I won't even try to be secretive about the elephant in the room. The plot bunny is a grandpa already. 
> 
> Rating is mostly for language at this point. I have a potty mouth, though there will be naughtiness later.
> 
> I'm planning on weekly updates, probably ~~Sundays~~ Friday evenings.

The lift door slid open, revealing the open office area with the posh wooden reception desk to his right. He stepped out with one long stride, nodding at the prim boy at reception in passing and making sure to make it a bored, detached glance he gave him. It was the one who always pushed the sign with his name to the very front of the reception desk, which made it harder to deliberately ignore it – harder and so much more fun, because it was so much more obvious that he couldn’t care less about the embarrassingly desperate attempts of wanting him to know his name. As if that would raise his non-existing chances, he thought, quite unable to repress a gleeful smirk as he walked past reception. He got high on this feeling.

  
It started in the lobby downstairs and carried him all the way up to his realm. He basked in it. He loved feeling the eyes that followed him, the heads that turned as he walked by, and the repressed giggles and whispers. It made his enigmatic smirk deepen, and he rubbed his meticulously groomed designer stubble with two fingers in the casual manner he practised every morning in the dashboard mirror before he got out of his shiny new sports car. He fed on the respect and awe he could feel emanating from these people. He loved the swoons and the certainty that people creamed their knickers when he walked by. It made him feel like he grew an invisible inch or two. He always made sure to arrive at a time when he knew everyone else had to be at their desk already. There wouldn’t be enough eyes on him on the top floor otherwise, but he liked to keep his immediate court small.

He enjoyed how hushed conversations became when he arrived in the morning. He relished in the knowledge that there was banter, even laughter as weekend or evening stories were being swapped only to be rudely silenced when the bell announced the arrival of the lift and thus, him.

Casting his usual aloof glances here and there he moved his already immaculate tie into place and strode slowly towards his office, bestowing a nod here, a low greeting there, if he felt so inclined. 

  
A hand seemed to appear out of nowhere to open the heavy wooden door to his office for him, too insignificant for him to check even as much as up the arm that was attached to it. He simply soared by and inside his office, loving how the soft carpet beneath his feet even felt expensive just to tread on. 

  
The blinds were already up on the glass front that made up one entire wall of his office, letting the early morning sun in and dance across the dark walnut furniture. He arrived by the massive desk and dropped his briefcase in the usual spot, which he noted had been cleared, seemingly for that very purpose for his briefcase fit the space exactly. It brought on a light frown, and he tried to remember when this might have happened and how long it had been going on. Turning towards the door he found it closed already, so he shook his head as if trying to shake off the question, and it was forgotten within an instant.

  
His desk was neatly laid out with small post-its that had messages scribbled on them, listing phone calls with their dates and times in incoming order. It had earned him many a frown in the beginning of every new working relationship, this system he had made up himself. Diaries had been mentioned, with promises that they would be meticulously kept. There had been pleas to be at least allowed to use a standard notepad for the messages, but he had waved them all off with a clipped „No“ and one sharp glance from under furrowed brows. He preferred the post-its, because it gave him devilish satisfaction to crumple a small yellow square into a small paper ball in his hand as soon as he had returned the call and to throw it into a basketball basket he had put up on the opposite wall of the room.

  
He pulled his massive chair around and slumped down in the black leather, pushing himself back far enough to be able to bring his feet up on the table and admire the new shoes he had just bought at the weekend. It still made him smirk, knowing that he had bagged a bargain for 300 Euro instead of 600. He was just indulging in the memory of how he had invested the 300 he’d saved in a bottle of champagne, most of which he had licked off of bare skin and sipped from a delectable belly button, when there was a knock on the door. 

  
“Come in!” he barked. He didn’t bother taking his feet off the table. His bored face transformed into a broad grin when he saw who wandered in, so obviously relaxed even when he was walking.

“Good morning, Chris.” Victor, his childhood-friend-come-deputy, didn’t know any inhibitions in this room. He just grabbed the less swanky yet also expensive leather chair on the other side of the desk and sat down. He slammed a file down on the desk and slid it towards Christophe, upsetting the neat order of the post-its enough to make Chris swing his feet off the table and move forward to put the file aside and rearrange the small yellow papers like a puzzle.

"Just get a diary already," Victor commented Chris' frantic fuddling with the post-its. "Or at least one of those special notepads for telephone calls."

Chris put the last two post-its back in their place and looked down at his work with the smile of accomplishment of a three-year-old having succeeded at assembling a six-piece puzzle.

“How was Paris?” Victor asked and took a cigarette from a silver case on the desk unasked. He lit it with a matching silver lighter, staring for a moment at the intricately wound letters C and G engraved into the case before he leaned back in his seat, resting his right ankle nonchalantly on his left knee.

“Same old, same old.” Chris took a cigarette himself. “Dirty and stinking,” he added through the first puffs of smoke. He frowned at it, added, „Much like this awful habit. Why haven’t we quit again a long time ago?“

Memories of their first shared smokes behind the schoolyard walls suddenly came to mind, the crumpled cigarette usually stolen out of Yakov’s jacket pocket and nearly setting Victor’s ponytail on fire as they tried to light it. They had coughed their lungs up and been violently sick, yet here they were, twenty years later and none the wiser.

“Oh, I’m sure you found your usual sweet-smelling distraction to make you forget about the pain.” Victor spoke without compassion and exhaled some smoke in Chris’ direction.

“Don’t remind me.” Chris made a dismissive gesture with the cigarette in his hand. “Bloody drama queen is getting expensive. I had to take him shopping, wander around Galeries Lafayette for three fucking hours to even get a blowjob in the opera out of him. And even that was a bit of a strain. When you’re looking at a stage set that consists of a huge skull and naked dummies in what looks like giant test tubes, that kind of kills the mood.”

Victor laughed. “You’ve spoilt him. Soon he won’t be quite so ready to jump whenever you call and say you’re in the country.”

The door opened and Chris’ secretary came in carrying a silver tray that held a round pot of coffee with matching cups and saucers, completed by a sugar bowl and milk jug all from the same range of finest Meissen porcelain. They clattered softly as the tray was set down on the desk after Chris’ briefcase was gently moved out of the way.

Chris continued as if they were still alone and not joined now by another pair of ears. “I’ll just get a new playmate.” He shrugged. “We met one of his cute little friends in the opera foyer, hanging on to some old geezer’s arm... too bad that I wasn’t alone that night. I might have gotten some real fun out of that trip.”

Victor took another drag from his cigarette, watching how slim fingers placed the expensive china carefully in front of Chris and poured darkest coffee. Chris reached for the cup as soon as it was filled without as much as a word. A second cup was placed in front of Victor, coffee poured carefully and without a drop spilled. Victor’s mouth watered when he caught the aroma that wafted up from the steaming dark liquid. He’d been raised on black tea sweetened with jam, but there was something about the smell of freshly ground and freshly poured good coffee that had the effect of the Pied Piper of Hamelin on him. The milk and sugar were pushed in his direction; neither of which Chris wanted in his coffee.

“Thank you,” Victor said softly. And winced inwardly when Chris’ secretary looked up and revealed dark doe-eyes blinking through horrid oblong silver-framed glasses that were almost hexangular. There was a faint nod, followed by quiet withdrawal.

“Wait!”

Victor raised one eyebrow when Chris’ bellowing voice resounded through the room. He swivelled round in his chair just in time to see the secretary freeze with one hand already on the door handle, the other limply holding the tray by the edge, brushing a leg. Victor almost drew in a sharp hissing breath through his teeth. He knew they were lax about dress-code in general in their company, which he found a good and progressive thing. But seriously. This cardigan? It looked like it was pieced together from different patterns several well-meaning Scandinavian grannies had knitted from dark blue and white leftovers over long winter nights. In combination with those completely shapeless jeans that just hung down his legs it was much more than just unbearable. And, god! Were those... sandals?? Victor had to avert his eyes. He picked up his cup and started stirring milk and sugar into it eagerly. He drank quickly because he had been raised not to use unpleasant words and figured scalding his mouth was way more polite than unintentionally uttering a sound that could have rightly been read as disapproval.

“This coffee,” Chris was just saying.

Victor looked up curiously. It was good coffee. Pricey from the taste of it alone. His morning coffee with Chris had become a pleasant ritual to start the workday that he wouldn’t want to miss, and they only ever drank the good stuff.

“You do know I only drink a certain brand.”

“Yes, sir.” Victor turned in his chair again when he heard the voice of Chris’ secretary. The poor boy’s face glowed crimson with mortification, but Victor couldn’t fail to notice how he kept his head up looking straight at Chris.

“Then you also know that _this_ is not _it_.”

As if to prove a point, Chris took another sip from his cup. He made a big show of pulling a face and spitting his mouthful out on to the saucer, carefully avoiding his own clothes. “This is bitter!” Chris spat the words out like his coffee a moment ago.

“I want _my_ coffee! And if it’s out, I don’t want to know _why_ you couldn’t be bothered to order new one in time, and I don’t give a damn _where_ you’ll get it from. I want it here on my desk every fucking morning!”

“Yes, sir.” It came quieter this time, and Victor watched the blush increase if that was even possible as Chris’ secretary shuffled his feet uncomfortably by the door.

“Good!” Chris made a dismissive gesture with his hand, much like royalty dismissing a filthy disciple.

Victor watched what could best be described as flight from the room before he turned back to face Chris.

“Did you have to?” he asked and drank some coffee, just to show Chris that it wasn’t really all that bad.

“Just making sure he knows what kind of a job he applied for.” Chris frowned at the ashes that had dropped on his desk from the end of the forgotten cigarette in his hand.

“Besides, I pay a shit load of money to have that goddamn coffee imported, I might as well drink it. So...”

He put out his burnt down cigarette in the heavy black glass ashtray in the middle of his desk and lit another one, more out of habit than for enjoyment. “What did I miss?”

Victor started filling him in on what had been going on during the week he’d spent in Paris.

"Fucking palm oil…" Chris muttered, skimming over one of the reports in the folder Victor had brought. "The bane of my life."

"I know, I’d love to stop using it in our products today rather than tomorrow, but we can’t afford it yet." Victor sighed. "The alternatives are still too costly, at this point I don’t see where we could possibly cut back to push that issue forward."

"Our organic line is the future." Chris lowered the file. "Let’s get the new product range out first. Bella’s flying out to Canada at the end of the week, is she?"

Victor nodded. Whatever Chris had meant to say remained unsaid when the door opened and his secretary came back in, quiet and efficient. He poured fresh coffee for Chris in a clean cup and cleared away the used cup and saucer, wiping the ashes off the desk into a napkin without a reaction. Victor was surprised. He couldn’t have done that without at least a frown. The secretary looked up only when Chris’ exasperated stare became too obvious, and then there was some more crimson colouring at being sized up by Chris and met with open disdain. It was as if something died in those eyes that very moment, Victor thought as he watched with open interest.

Victor reached for his cup just as it was to be taken away. Their fingers touched on the smooth porcelain outline for a moment, and Victor was surprised by how cold they felt. “I’ll have that, thank you,” he said softly. “I quite like it.”

Another nod, and black hair being pushed out of a glowing face, which was rather stunning behind the horrendous glasses, Victor thought as Chris’ secretary hastily retreated. The door closed with a soft thud.

“He’s got the hots for you,” Victor remarked, thinking of that disappointment in those dark eyes. He reached for his coffee cup, the folder of reports and figures in between them forgotten. There was this comfortable ease between them that only people who go way back have. They were able to switch between business and private life easily, never forgetting the importance of either.

“I know.” Chris stretched himself, cracking his knuckles in doing so. Picking up his coffee, he sipped carefully. This time it was the right one, for he nodded slightly and drank properly, making a low appreciative sound at the back of his throat.

“Just like _he_ knows that he’d never stand a chance with me,” he finally said, still feeling Victor’s curious eyes on him. “That’s why I gave him the job as my personal secretary. He’s exactly what I was looking for.”

Victor laughed. “You don’t even know his name.”

“Secretaries!” Chris huffed. “They come and go. They all fancy me rotten but none of them knows how to hide it, or, even worse, the smart way to go about it, without me noticing that they all have this same big dream of sleeping their way up the career ladder. With him at least I can be sure he does a good job and makes the moo-moo eyes at me in secret. And he’s entertaining. I mean, did you see the way he dresses?” He sipped his coffee, clearly pleased.

Victor mused over the brim of his cup for a moment, one finger poised against his lips, thinking about that face, that posture. He knew for a fact that if that mix up with the coffee had not happened, Chris would be as clueless about the way his secretary dressed as he was about his name.

At long last Victor looked up.

“I don’t think so,” he smiled. “I think that if he plays his cards right he’ll have you gagging for it.”

Chris laughed out loud. “Give me a break! I gave him this position because he’s smart. He knows I am way out of his league and always will be.”

With a sudden mischievous sparkle in his eyes, Victor drank up and very calmly poured himself another cup from the pot that had been brought in first, the one so rudely discarded by Chris. He added milk and sugar, stirring with a patience that he could feel was getting Chris’ hackles up across the desk.

“Hey.” Chris leaned forward in his seat, peering suspiciously at Victor across his massive walnut desk. “Wipe that smugness off your face, _mon cher_. I wouldn’t touch that with a barge pole.“

“Sure?” Victor smiled enigmatically into his cup. He had well spotted the light sway of those hips as Chris’ secretary moved through the room, even though the hideous cardigan did its best to hide it. There wasn’t much Victor knew about him yet since he’d started just a few weeks ago, after the last of Chris’ secretaries had thrown the towel in. But he knew that he was shy, efficient, and hardworking. Even when he did get into one of his rare conversations with a colleague, his voice was quiet and respectful.

Chris’ eyes narrowed. “Wanna bet?”

Victor’s smile turned into a devious smirk. “What if I do?” He took a maddeningly slow sip from his coffee cup. „What would you say if I bet I’ll have you sleeping with your secretary by the end of the year?“

Chris’s response was immediate.

“I’d say start cramming your money together because I have won this bet already.” He pulled a face as the full consequences of what Victor was implying became clear to him.

“Victor.” His tone turned serious. “I would never, you hear me, _never_ in a million years sleep with my secretary! I’ve got standards, as you well know!” His face looked almost disgusted even as he only said the word ‘secretary’.

Victor put down his cup for a moment, leaned back in his chair and crossed both arms in front of his chest.

“You’re on,” he said calmly.

“Alright.” Never one willing to lose, Chris already reached out one had across the table to shake on the deal. “How high will the stakes be? Five grand?”

He knew it was more than just a little pocket money, even for someone like Victor who had a high position in the company. Hell, even for himself, the precious heir of the Giacometti empire.

“Nah.” Victor shook his head, pretending to be thinking, though it was clear he already had something very definite on his mind. “How about... your brand new Jaguar.”

Chris coughed up a whole mouthful of coffee all over the front of his crisp white shirt and shot up in his chair as if he’d been stung. “My Jag- _what_?!”

“Yes.” Victor smirked. “Seems like a fair wager to me. I’m quite fascinated by your new baby, though I could never stretch to that myself. My boss just doesn’t pay me enough.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me!” Chris muttered, frowning at his ruined shirt.

“What, scared of losing already, Christophe?” Victor’s smugness was beginning to piss Chris off, and Victor got a kick out of that. “If you’re so sure you’ll never touch him with a barge pole you don’t have anything to worry about.” He smiled innocently.

“Wanker!” Chris hissed through his teeth. “I won’t back out of this.”

“I know.” Victor grinned even more deviously if that was actually possible. „So. Do you want me to wager anything in case I lose?“

Chris snorted, and it sounded downright majestic. „That won’t be necessary. It’ll never happen.“

„Okay.“ Victor finally leaned in to shake on their bet.

“You won’t get your hands on my Jaguar in a million years!” Chris promised darkly.

“We’ll see.” Victor reached for the cigarettes again and held them out to Chris before he took one himself, paused, reconsidered and pushed it back into the pack. He really should quit. “You just make sure you don’t accidentally get your hands on your secretary.”

“Don’t you worry about that.” Chris nodded thanks after Victor had lit the cigarette for him. “My secretary is not your problem.”

They both lazed back in the upholstery of their respective seats, Chris smoking in silence for a moment, Victor nursing his coffee again. Suddenly Chris seemed struck by a thought.

“Or do you have the hots for him yourself?” His expression became dirty. “I could lend you his... _services_ sometimes, you know. I haven’t heard anything about Georgi coming back any time soon, so you might need some… assistance.”

“Thanks, but no thanks.” Victor grinned. “Not my cup of tea.”

“Sure? I distinctly remember one rainy afternoon many years ago that was totally your cup of tea.”

“A sweaty hand-job in a gym equipment room does not count for much, Chris.”

“No, but maybe a good fuck in satin sheets will.”

“In your wildest dreams, darling.”

“Oh, I could show you a thing or two about my wildest dreams, _mon cher_. You might just enjoy it.”

They had leaned further and further in across Chris’ desk while they were speaking. Now, with their faces just mere inches away from each other, they were close enough to see the gritty determination in the other’s eyes. It was the one thing that had brought them this far, the ability to be friends as well as contenders, always. After failing to stare Victor down, Chris finally blew off a cloud of smoke into his face at least. Victor waved it off with one hand as he rose from his seat.

“Don’t be late for the ten o’clock meeting.” Victor placed his empty cup on the saucer and reached for the file, only to throw it towards Chris again so that he could catch up on the notes they hadn’t been able to discuss. He strode towards the door, one hand in the pocket of his grey three-piece suit, the other already raised to reach for the door handle.

“Victor.”

Victor swung around, looking at Chris with his head cocked expectantly.

Chris sat straight at his desk, all smooth, important company leader now as he looked up from the open file before him. “What the fuck _is_ his name?”


	2. An Audience with a Queen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Who needs enemies when you've got friends like Phichit Chulanont? 
> 
> Or: Yuuri experiences the longest week of his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a long chapter. It has a lot of descriptions in the beginning, but once you've made it through that I promise it will get better (I hope *lol*). I wanted to set the scene so that people can start talking to each other and I don't have to throw in lengthy descriptions of places and past anymore in the course of the story. 
> 
> I love how all your comments mentioned so many movies the prologue reminded them of. Just to clarify: this is not a rewrite of any movie. I have never even watched 'The Devil Wears Prada' in full. The title is of course a take on 'Ten Things I Hate About You' and there is the common theme of betting, but not like in that movie. The Hateful Sweater will make an appearance soon. The only movie this probably comes closest to is 'She's All That' and I think we all know why already. ;) 
> 
>   
> I'm using occasional text messaging and chat messaging in the story from now on. I'm trying to keep it down to an absolute minimum and I'm not bothering too much with the formatting of it because it's giving me a headache. I hope it's distinguishable enough, and I hope the emojis used come out for everyone. 
> 
> And now it's time for Yuuri to enter the scene. Buckle up, he's having a bit of a rough day. :)

**2 – An Audience with a Queen**

Yuuri was woken up by the tickle of an eager tongue licking all over his face. The sound that escaped his mouth was something between a groan and a giggle.

“ohayo, Vicchan.”

The small toy poodle was nudging his face like in reply. Yuuri allowed himself five minutes of cuddles, before the memories of the previous day came crushing down and he buried his face in Vicchan’s fur with shame.

It was bad enough that he had to wear outfits Phichit picked out for him all week, thanks to a stupid bet he’d lost the last time they went out drinking. He was never going to drink again, that went without saying. But yesterday had crushed him in so many ways. He didn’t want to get up and go to work. His parents and Minako would freak if they could see what he’d worn to work yesterday.

He felt the mortification creep up again as he thought about the looks and comments he’d received walking in wearing that horrible cardigan. In sandals, for crying out loud! The worst part of the bet was that he was not allowed to talk about it until the week was over. He wasn’t sworn to silence-silence, but instead of saying “My best friend is a twat who likes to torment people with his shitty sense of humour!”, he would need to make something up and give a convincing explanation for why he was wearing what he was wearing. Despite the lax dress code in general he knew he had caused quite an uproar. And that made him anxious. He simply was not in a position anymore where it was appropriate to come to work dressed less than immaculately, and he had spent most of his work day hunched behind his computer screen, fear eating away at him that with every ringing of the phone it would be HR calling him in for a friendly reminder to dress appropriately.

Yesterday had been the first Monday Yuuri was fervently hoping for his boss to stay longer in Paris like he sometimes did. That was one of his special powers, missing his Sunday evening plane and leaving everyone else in the office to carry the can for him on Monday morning. Yesterday had also been the first Monday that this was not the case. When he sauntered in in the morning, Yuuri had wanted to duck under his desk and die, his last nasty thought gladly spared for the lover his boss entertained in Paris who was clearly losing his game if he couldn’t even keep a guy in his bed for one day longer.

The lover was a well-known secret. It was also common knowledge that his boss’ parents not only disapproved of his preferring men over women, they disapproved even more of the fact that their son and heir popped up in the French yellow press with his toy boy on a regular basis. Yuuri’s face coloured and he slid a little further into hiding under his blanket as he remembered writing out the message on one of those post-its he was obliged to use instead of a proper notepad like a normal person would require:

**_Monday, 7:32 AM._ **

**_Message from your father:_ **

**_“If you would like something pretty_ **

**_to spoil and suck life and money out_ **

**_of you, get a cat.”_ **

Yuuri still couldn’t say who he felt more embarrassed for: himself for having to take down this message in the first place, or his boss’ father who didn’t even know that his own son had owned a cat for months already.

Normally Yuuri was good at making himself invisible and going quietly and efficiently about his job. Normally his boss barely ever looked at him. He might have gotten through the day like that but then the coffee disaster happened. Stressed out with nerves as he was, Yuuri had mixed up the jars and made the wrong kind. He had committed the greatest possible sin in his job description. Sighing, Yuuri rolled himself into a ball. He was already exhausted and it was only Tuesday morning.

This would be the longest week of his life.

Vicchan barked at him once, and Yuuri rolled out of bed and got dressed for their morning run. Vicchan was already waiting impatiently by the door by the time he put his shoes on. It was their ritual they had shared every day that it was possible since his parents had presented him with a handful of poodle on his 13th birthday. They had gone on morning runs in Hasetsu, and then in the next bigger city where he went to high school, and then in the US where he went to college before they came to Europe. They had patiently borne every insane paper and veterinary health and quarantine and travel issue that moving around internationally with a pet involved. Vicchan was his best friend, even though Phichit would beg to differ.

Yuuri grabbed his key, phone and earplugs and headed out. Vicchan paused by the apartment next door and gave a short bark at the door. He knew this was their every morning treat. Yuuri grinned down at him before he leaned on the doorbell for good measure so that Phichit would surely wake up.

Half an hour later he let himself and Vicchan back into his apartment. Phichit had been over to drop off Yuuri’s outfit for the day while he was out. Yuuri groaned when he saw the item draped over the back of the sofa, cursing himself for ever sharing those stories and especially the pictures of his father and his drunken antics. Like so many Japanese people his dad had little to no tolerance for liquor whatsoever. That had never kept him away from a sake cup though, and so there was countless photographic and video proof of Katsuki Toshiya out of his skull. He was a happy, jolly drunk at least, though he got incredibly stupid. A trait Yuuri had inherited from him, apparently.

Which brought him full circle to this thigh-length grey tunic that Phichit must have had printed especially after seeing pictures of Yuuri’s dad when he’d indulged in body painting one drunken night and let the onsen patrons paint a face on his cuddly stomach. It wasn’t a bad print, Yuuri had to give Phichit that. His father had worn his standard green waistcoat that night, and it was pushed up his chest to reveal his body for painting. The print showed the crunched up waistcoat and even his father’s typical bowtie at the top. The body painting part took up the largest part - a huge white face sporting simplified eyes and nose, and a wide, very red mouth with a small crossed circle in the middle. Yuuri remembered his ticklish father’s laughter when they painted that over his bellybutton, and he felt a small stab of homesickness.

A dark blue _happi_ was folded neatly beside the tunic, the name of Yuuri’s family’s business spelt down the lapels. He had brought that from home for nothing but nostalgic reasons; trust Phichit to go through his wardrobe. At least nobody in the office was able to read hiragana. But the worst were the pants and shoes. Clearly Phichit had gone shopping in the grandfather aisle for the plain grey pants and brown loafers, for Yuuri was definitely about sixty years too young to rock those. There was even a pair of glasses similar to his dad’s.

“I hate you, Peach!” Yuuri said very loudly to his living room wall. He didn’t know for sure just how thin the walls were in their building but it made him feel better, and if Phichit did hear him by any chance next door, it served him right. “I love you to pieces but I hate you so much right now.”

An alarm on his phone made him jump, reminding him that he had to get ready. He fed Vicchan and headed in the shower, then had a cup of tea at the kitchen counter in nothing but underpants and a towel around his neck as he read through his schedule on his tablet.

Twenty minutes later he stepped out of his apartment again, messenger bag across his shoulder and Vicchan on his leash. Phichit’s door opened as if on cue, and his eyes lit up when he spotted Yuuri.

“Looking good, Katsuki! I knew blue was your colour!” he praised, fussing with the _happi_ under the straps of the bag.

“I look like my dad!” Yuuri complained.

“No, you look like your mum.” Phichit grinned. “Dressed up as your dad.”

Yuuri glared at him as they walked down the narrow hall. Phichit called the lift while Yuuri walked on to another apartment door down the other end of the hall. The door opened before he could ring the bell, revealing two brown-haired young men locked in a kiss. Yuuri had to chuckle at the sight of them - one dressed for work in jeans and a white polo shirt, laptop bag slung across his chest, the other one barefoot in baby pink pyjamas. The taller one finally tore himself free, only to bring his forehead against the other man’s, look him deep in the eyes and mutter a low “Bye, babe.”

“Hurry up, Leo!” Phichit called impatiently from the lift. “I can’t hold this up forever!”

The shorter man in pyjamas laughed softly as he chased his boyfriend out the door with a slap on his arse and turned to Yuuri. “Morning, Yuuri. Hi, Vicchan.”

“Okay, Vicchan, see you tonight. Be good for Guang Hong, okay?” Yuuri crouched down to pet him farewell, then rose to hand over the leash. Guang Hong worked from home, and Yuuri was glad he was able to leave his dog with him while he was at work. “See you, Guang Hong.”

“Have a nice day, guys.” Guang Hong remained leaning in the open door to see them off. Or to ogle his boyfriend’s butt in the jeans he had no doubt picked for him, Yuuri figured.

“Peach really is a beast,” Leo remarked when he gave Yuuri the once-over as they walked to the lift where Phichit was waving his phone with the clock on display impatiently while he held the doors open. “Though it’s a slight improvement from yesterday.”

“My revenge will be terrible,” Yuuri deadpanned. Phichit snort-laughed and scrolled though his social media while the lift doors closed.

The ride to work in Phichit’s car was quiet, and Yuuri was glad it allowed him to save a little time. He needed to jump out at the dry cleaner’s around the corner from work and collect the shirt his boss had ‚spilled’ coffee on the day before and which he wanted cleaned over night. Spilled alright. Yuuri rolled his eyes when he walked the short distance from the dry cleaner’s to the office. Like he wouldn’t know the difference between spilled coffee and the messy splatter of someone spluttering all over his front.

Another five minutes later Yuuri stepped into the foyer of the twelve-storied building that had been the new headquarters for the last ten years. He called out a hurried a „Good morning!“ to the security guard and the main reception ladies, and headed straight for the lift that took him to the top floor, all the while holding up the cleaned shirt in its protective plastic like a screen in front of his body.

It was quiet in the executive suite this early in the morning when he stepped out of the lift. The hallway stretched out before him but the space was open to his left and right. To his right, a reception desk stood facing out towards the hall. Behind it was the deputy CEO’s office, stretching along the outer right wall. The large conference room was straight ahead. The conference room took up almost half of the space on this side of the top floor, and a small seating lounge had been set up in the space between the door that let inside and the reception.

At the very end of the hallway, close to the security door that led out into the stairway, a small but very stylish bathroom had been created. The conference room had lost out on area in order to carve this out of its space; Yuuri had heard the stories of how his boss had been adamant about this. He was very glad about it though, he’d never been so lucky with facilities in the workplace before. Separate glass doors for the ladies’ and gents’ opened out from a marbled washroom in the centre with not only a large sink but also a small shower. It came in handy after an all-nighter in the office, which he knew his bosses to pull from time to time. Phichit was mightily jealous of this bathroom. It was all shiny marble and huge mirrors, soft towels and fancy toiletries. And a chandelier in the washroom, which did not surprise anyone who had ever met Yuuri’s boss.

The lift doors closed behind Yuuri with a ping. The reception desk on his right was already manned, a young trainee named Jamie checking something online that Yuuri was ninety-five percent sure was not work related. He quietly wished him good morning, ignoring his smirk at his attire and envying him the blue turtleneck he was wearing.

The area fanning out to the left of the lift was where Yuuri worked. Mirroring the conference room on the right, the CEO’s office took up a large part of the floor. There was an open space right outside it where Yuuri’s desk stood to the wall on the left, and two more seats, a potted plant and a low coffee table provided more waiting space for visitors. Yuuri walked up to his desk by the windows and put down his bag. Opposite the CEO’s office, on the lower end of the floor, two doors led off to a small kitchen and another small office in the corner shared by the two company lawyers.

Yuuri went though the every-morning-motions. He liked to be responsible for what he thought of as his side of the floor. He switched on all the desk lights and computers and opened the windows before he entered his boss’s office, where he tidied the desk and arranged everything neatly. There was a small closet next to the walnut cabinet where a change of clothes was always kept, and Yuuri hung the cleaned shirt in its plastic cover outside from the design handle so that it was visible right away.

He crunched his face in disgust when he realized the cleaners had once again forgotten to empty the ashtray and pick up the crumpled post-its. So Yuuri did it, hating every moment of it. He washed out the ashtray in the washroom and dried it carefully with a wad of paper towels because he didn’t want to get the fancy soft cotton towels in touch with this. Smoking was a disgusting habit in his opinion, and the cleaning of the ashtray not one of his favourite tasks. That and picking up the crumpled post-its which lay strewn around and not in the wastepaper basket underneath the basketball net his boss liked to toss them at.

He checked the answering machine for messages and wrote them neatly on new post-it notes which he stuck to the desk meticulously, wondering not for the first time why he could not just use a standard notepad.

Once everything was in order he headed over to the small kitchen and got hot water started for his second cup of tea of the day. He heard the faint ping of the lift again over the bubbling sounds of the kettle. Tea placed on his desk, he went back across the hall to get the mail from the neatly labelled mail boxes behind the reception desk. Jamie was typing on his phone, and Yuuri would have liked to stop for a chat but not this week, not in the shit Phichit made him wear.

The lights were on in the deputy’s office now, he saw it through the glass above the door, but the door was closed and no sound was heard. Over the few weeks Yuuri had been in this position, he had learned that there was no rule and no pattern regarding open and closed doors. They were just a few people up here, and everyone had his or her preferences. The only door that was always closed was the CEO’s. Yuuri took it for what it was. He’d been raised to respect other people’s privacy in even the smallest spaces and behind the thinnest walls. Focussing on himself and fading out other people’s presence and conversations had been ingrained in him since birth. Or, as Phichit called it, “You can take out the boy of Japan but you can’t take Japan out of the boy.”

Back at his desk, Yuuri logged in to his email, sipping tea as he filtered out and deleted the spam that had found its way in despite the pretty good filter system Leo and his team had in place. As personal secretary he had to go over the CEO’s email too first thing in the morning. He still found it hard not to just delete the viagra commercials; he was under orders from his boss to keep those. Sometimes Yuuri did. Sometimes he deleted them nevertheless. He usually checked with Leo first which ones could be dangerous and which ones were harmless.

He opened the internet browser and the familiar home page with the Crispino & Giacometti company logo filled the screen. It always reminded him of his school and college days, when he would visit this site to pour over the career options, striving for a degree that would hopefully get him into this company. He had gone over the history so many times in preparation for his interview he could recite it in his sleep. It helped that he was fascinated by the story of two childhood friends who had started out with a small hotel chain in the Swiss mountains until they realised that the local food they served in their hotels was actually much more in demand than the accommodation with a view. An investor from Russia had come on board and they had launched their first food line, a chocolate spread as their star product that had originated as a family recipe they served in their hotels, back in the day when chocolate spread wasn’t yet something that was more and more frowned upon. After the food came a lifestyle range. Interior design. Real estate. Fashion.

They branched out between Switzerland and Italy eventually, two childhood friends growing families along with their brand, and Massimo Crispino had set up base in Milan, the whole lifestyle and fashion range under his management. The Giacomettis had stayed in Switzerland, close to their local suppliers. Swiss chocolate had always been a safe bet and food was still one of their strongholds. It was how a ten-year-old boy far away in Japan had found them.

Minako, his ballet teacher and close friend of the family, had brought some of their chocolates and biscuits from one of her European tours with a ballet company. She raved about the restaurant in Zurich where she had enjoyed the most exquisite dinner, and Yuuri, born with a love of food, was mesmerised.

If it was in any way possible to be a fanboy of a brand, then Yuuri was it. In the beginning he had even held on to the pretty chocolate wrappers, until he found out about online shops and worldwide shipping. There was something so stylish about them, something that looked like so much fun. Like one could have the world and yet be part of a family. He loved to watch their commercials online, and the videos on their website, and he wanted to be a part of this world. There weren’t many videos back then, not like now since Sara Crispino had relocated permanently from Milan to set up the communications head office over here. One of her first measures had been to establish a Youtube channel which amongst news and product information featured short videos in which staff members of all areas got to introduce themselves. They always got more views than anything else.

The founders had stepped down from operative management some years ago, entrusting the business to their children to lead Crispino & Giacometti in the new millennium. Yuuri had kept the three-page feature from a leading business magazine in his desk for the longest time. It had been his motivation. The whole article had been stylish in its introduction of the new management team, including high gloss photos of four young people looking like the future, all four of them sleek in business attire, all four of them looking so smart, so attractive, so rearing to go. Except for that one candid picture where the one woman among them was lifted up by the three men so that they held her up horizontally in front of them, all of them laughing while she had one hand on her hips and held her head propped up with the other in mid-air. Under their lead, digitalisation, social media and sustainability became a theme, wanting to be embedded into their traditions and quality, and an organic range was introduced. The world grew closer together, and suddenly it wasn’t an unreachable goal any more for Yuuri to become a part of them, either.

He worked hard on his grades, on his English, tested the waters during a high school exchange in the US, and finally took the plunge and got into college there. The culture shock and the homesickness were unbearable for a long time. Without Vicchan he would have gone crazy. He would never have made it without his family’s support either, both morally and financially, and he was glad he was finally able to stand on his own two feet and to give something back. Though the first time he sent money home his parents had given him such a scolding that he felt like he was five years old again and sneaked a stray dog into the onsen. He had stuck to gift baskets since then.

It hadn’t been too hard to get into Crispino & Giacometti. They recruited regularly and often internationally. Yuuri’s grades were excellent, he braved an assessment centre in Zurich despite his nerves wearing him down, he wasn’t tied down to one place, not afraid of moving halfway around the globe. He breezed through a six-month trainee programme and then started in accounting. It had bored him out of his head. He wanted to be more involved. So he changed to product design, which was more to his taste and had been a lot of fun as it always reminded him of how much he had loved their chocolate wrappers as a child. He still thought that his moving up to fill the spot of personal secretary to the CEO himself had been some kind of mistake. But Phichit and Leo, who were exposed to so much more information and gossip, had told him that their CEO didn’t usually manage to hold on to his personal secretaries for long and that Yuuri, who was an ace at organising and taking care of things, would stand as much of a chance as anyone else, if not a better one. It had needed some more coaxing from the both of them and half a bottle of sake until he applied to HR about being considered for the recently yet again vacated position. With the beginning of the new year, he had moved his work box of personal belongings to this very desk.

Another viagra commercial email popped up on his screen, and he rolled his eyes. He quickly asked Leo on the internal messenger whether the source was dubious. Leo wrote back immediately. No surprise there, the IT and communications people were just _always_ online.

**Leo de la Iglesia**

**_online_ **

_they’re all dubious_

_but this one’s not dangerous at least_

_let him have it_

🍆

Yuuri chuckled at the eggplant emoji and moved the email from the spam folder to the normal email inbox, hoping fervently like every time he did this that he would never have to call an ambulance because he found his boss with a popped vein or ten from shitty online potency pills.

It wouldn’t come as a big surprise to him. Because it was like this:

Yuuri really did love to be part of the company. They were modern and yet still like a family. The furnished company-owned apartment he lived in was spacious and light and the favourite place he had ever lived at since he’d moved out from home. He got to keep Vicchan. His best friend lived next door. The pay was good. Europe was a great place to live. Working in an international team was amazing. His work was interesting, and he liked the challenge. Except that there was one factor he just had not reckoned with.

He didn’t like that he caught himself thinking of it this way, and his parents would be shocked and say they’d raised him better than that, but the long and short of it was that his boss was an ass.

Christophe Giacometti was an ass.

“Good morning, Yuuri!”

He looked up from the screen at the cheerful voice and flushed when he saw Steph, one of the lawyers, raise her eyebrows at the sight of his outfit. And she couldn’t even see the full image because he was sitting down. The dreaded knot of nerves began to pool in his stomach.

“Morning Steph,” he replied and tried a smile. While she walked into her office, giggling, he opened a new window on the internal messenger.

**Yuuri Katsuki**

**_online_ **

_I hate you!_

Almost instantly, a reply appeared.

**Phichit Chulanont**

**_online_ **

😘

The morning’s mail was delivered, and Yuuri braced himself for fetching it because it meant getting up from his desk and walking across the hall to the mail boxes behind the reception again. Steph’s door was open, her colleague just arriving, and Jamie, too, was no longer alone behind reception because they had a second person at reception early in the week when most meetings took place. And Phichit, Yuuri decided as he tried not to rush so as not to embarrass himself even more, was a dead man.

The deputy’s door was open. Of fucking course. It meant walking right past it on the way to the mail. Yuuri sighed as he grabbed the mail and headed back to his desk, where he sat down and kept his gaze lowered as he began to sort the envelopes, wishing himself invisible.

“Good morning, Yuuri!”

Yuuri looked up from the two neat piles of mail he had stacked, letter opener ready in his hand as he was about to open those that were not private and confidential. He was faced with a pair of blue eyes, or rather, one blue eye because the left was almost completely covered by silver bangs.

“Good morning, sir,” Yuuri replied politely and put down the letter opener.

“Please.” Victor Nikiforov, deputy CEO, laughed and shook his head. “No need to be so formal.”

He leaned down for a confidential whisper, his hands still in his pockets. “I know Chris insists to be addressed like that, but personally I find it a bit embarrassing.”

Yuuri frowned. Not addressing a superior accordingly was not really something that he found himself comfortable with. “Of course, Mr. Nikiforov,” he finally managed and stopped himself just in time before he could add a small bow.

“My father’s here???” Victor shot up and looked around, feigning surprise. When he looked back at Yuuri, there it was again, that laughter.

“Please,” he said again with a half shake his head. “Call me Victor.”

“Right.” Yuuri nodded. “What can I do for you…Victor?” The unfamiliar syllables didn’t slide too unhappily over his lips, less of a mouthful than ‘Nikiforov’ at least which had not one but two of the ‘f’ sounds that were hell to pronounce for Japanese people in a way that foreigners understood. If Victor noticed how he added extra syllables to his name in his Japanese accent, he didn’t let on. It wasn’t so hard with the ‘k’ sound in the middle, but the ‘r’ the end was pretty much impossible for him to not draw into ‘ru’.

Victor was still looking at him with interest. Yuuri wondered if he should have kept the letter opener in his hand after all, maybe waved it around a bit. Perhaps that would have helped get his peace and quiet back, or at least made him look very busy. After an agonisingly long minute Victor said, “I couldn’t help but notice that you are dressed rather… refreshingly again today.”

Yuuri felt the colour drain from his face and his stomach plummet. The moment he’d been fretting over all day yesterday had come. He hadn’t made it two days without being called out. By the second highest authority in the company, no less. Who was as usual looking neat as a pin, sporting a blue suit today that brought out the colour of his eyes in the most ridiculous way.

“I’m sorry!” Yuuri jumped up and now he did bow, low, because this was embarrassing as hell and several years of living abroad had not been able to drive this trait out of him. “I know it’s inappropriate! I’m going to go home and get changed!” He kept his head lowered, waiting for the ground to open up and swallow him whole.

And Victor… laughed.

“Yuuuuri.” It rolled over him like an avalanche of Vicchan cuddles, the drawn out ‘u’ and the rolled ‘r’.

Yuuri straightened, confused.

“ _I’m_ sorry. You don’t need to get changed. And please sit down again. There is no need for this.” Victor gestured for Yuuri to sit. “Even though it is rather cute,” he added with a wink.

Yuuri sat, feeling mortified. And then even more so when Victor sat down on the edge of his desk, upsetting the piles of mail Yuuri had so carefully sorted. Who would have thought that an exasperated glare would be so hard to fight off? Not Yuuri at this very moment, that much he knew.

“I hope you didn’t take Chris’ little outburst to heart yesterday.” Victor changed the subject like he was talking about the weather.

Yuuri blinked.

“Can I tell you a secret about this coffee he made such a fuss about?”

“Sure…” Yuuri mumbled. He didn’t really see what any of this was good for, but then this couldn’t get any weirder either, so.

Again, Victor leaned down and closer to Yuuri and lowered his voice. He really meant business about being secretive. Now _this_ was kind of cute. For some weird reason Yuuri felt better.

“It’s one of the most expensive kinds of coffee in the world, and you know why? There are these animals in Indonesia, palm civets. They eat the coffee beans and shit them out half digested, and only then are the coffee beans collected. They get fermented in the intestines, which is said to make this coffee so good and so expensive.”

Yuuri’s head shot up. “You just made that up!”

“I did not. You can look it up.” Victor shrugged and leaned in even closer, murmuring conspiratorially, his breath warm on Yuuri’s face and fogging over Yuuri’s glasses. “So the next time Chris behaves like a condescending ass, just think about the fact he’s drinking coffee that was crapped out by a palm civet.”

Beaming wickedly like he’d just sold the secret to the universe, he straightened up again.

“What does this say?”

It took Yuuri and his fogged glasses a moment to realise that Victor was pointing at the writing on the lapels of his _happi_. Oh. They were back onto this, apparently.

“It says ‘Stay the hell away from alcohol,’” Yuuri murmured.

“Really?” Victor looked so taken aback for a moment that Yuuri actually had to laugh. It felt good.

“No.” Yuuri shook his head. “It says Yu-topia Katsuki. It’s the name of my family’s hot spring resort back home.”

For a moment Victor was quiet. Not for much longer though.

“And the shirt? I’m sorry, I’m just curious. I saw you getting the mail and I couldn’t help notice that it’s got a rather… intricate print. Is it something Japanese?”

Yuuri closed his eyes. Took a deep breath. Wished himself miles away. When he opened his eyes again, Victor was still looking down at him, head tilted expectantly.

“It’s… my father!” Yuuri shot out the words like an unwelcome cough.

“That face on your shirt is your father?” Victor asked. His eyes were dancing with mirth.

“No.” Yuuri groaned. “It’s my father’s birthday today. He gave me this shirt, and I’m wearing it because I miss him. Because it’s his birthday.” He could barely look Victor in the eyes. Phichit was dead, Yuuri thought. Dead!

“So… on your father’s birthday you dress like him?” Victor bent down to look under the table, at the offending pants and shoes. Yuuri wanted to die.

“Well, Yuuri. Thank you for enlightening me.” Victor stood and turned to walk back across the hall to his office. “And make sure to wish your father happy birthday from me,” he said with a mischievous look back over his shoulder, a heart-shaped smile on his face that said: I don’t believe a word of what you’ve said.

Not five minutes later Yuuri received an email from Victor with the subject ‘Crap coffee’.

It contained a link to an article about Kopi Luwak and a winking emoji.

Yuuri looked up and realised that he could actually see Victor sitting at his desk across the hall when his door was open. And he wasn’t the first to realise this because his gaze met Victor’s straight on.

Yuuri looked down at the letters in front of him again. The piles he had sorted earlier were in shambles thanks to Victor perching on his desk. Yuuri looked up, motioning at the mess on his desk with his chin and cocking one eyebrow. Across the hall, Victor was making a face of mock dismay. His eyes were smiling, and, as he went to start sorting the letters all over again, so was Yuuri.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

On Wednesday morning, Yuuri fired off a text message to Phichit when he saw his outfit for the day.

**_Yuuri_ **

_A skirt????? Really???_

**_Phichit_ **

_It’s not a skirt. It’s a kilt._

**_Yuuri_ **

_…._

**_Phichit_ **

_And_ you _thought Monday was embarrassing._

**_Yuuri_ **

_!!!!!!!_

Yuuri did not ride to work with Phichit and Leo that day. He didn’t feel he could handle any more teasing. In the office he tried to go about his work as quietly as he possibly could, jaw squared stubbornly. Like he was not wearing a kilt and a white shirt with ridiculous frills at the front as well as knee-high Gothic boots. With buckles. And heels. At least he was wearing his own pair of glasses today. Although the blue frame looked shit with red tartan, of course.

He shot the mail man a glare when he walked around reception to get Christophe’s mail from the post boxes, grateful that the sound of his heels was at least swallowed by carpet.

Back at his desk, he opened the internal messenger, inwardly fuming.

**Yuuri Katsuki**

**_online_ **

_PEACH!_

_I’m going to throttle you!_

_I just caught both our trainees AND the mail man trying to glimpse under my kilt!!!!_

**Phichit Chulanont**

**_online_ **

_ROTFLMAO!!!!!_

Christophe’s jaw positively dropped when he walked in and saw him, and Yuuri could _feel_ his eyes on his arse through the tartan when he served him his coffee. He’d never scurried so quickly from his office before.

“Let me guess – it’s your Scottish uncle’s birthday and you’re wearing this in his honour!”

Yuuri flushed crimson. He moved the pile of mail out of the way just in time before Victor planted himself on the edge of his desk.

“How did you guess?” Yuuri braved a tired smile. Surely today someone would tip off HR and make sure he got the warning he deserved. The sooner this was over the better.

“Can you dance a Highland reel in those heels?” Victor teased.

“Let’s hope I never have to find out.” Yuuri had meant for that to come out much more cheerful. Ripping another envelope open, he waited for Victor’s next dig. When nothing came forward, he raised his eyes.

Victor was looking down at him like deep in thought, studying him with his head cocked to one side. The usual mirth he liked to tease him with had been replaced with… concern? Compassion. Like he knew he was hiding something. Yuuri felt under this gaze like he did when Vicchan noticed something was bugging him and nudged his head under his chin for comfort.

“I’ll let you get on with it,” Victor said with a gentle nod at the pile of mail and rose from his desk.

Yuuri exhaled a breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding.

On screen, the internal messenger blinked with a new message.

**Phichit Chulanont**

**_online_ **

_lunch with me down here?_

_I brought shortbread as dessert for the occasion_

Yuuri closed the chat window and set his status to _offline_.

On lunch break he sneaked out on the roof. On the further end from the helipad the roof was fenced off for safety reasons. Yuuri liked to stand by the fence and look out over the city and how it blended into the sky and the mountains. Hugging himself he took deep breaths, trying to disentangle the nervous knots in his stomach. Christophe had gone out for lunch and would be in appointments out of the office in the afternoon, so at least he would have a quiet rest of the workday. He clung to that thought.

“I thought hanging out on the roof was something Japanese people only did in manga and anime.”

Yuuri swung round and saw Victor standing a couple of feet away from him, one hand in the pocket of his dark grey bespoke suit, pack of cigarettes in the other hand, hiding it almost guiltily beside one leg, soft smile playing around his lips.

“Are you alright?” Victor asked.

“Fine.” Yuuri huffed.

“I guess so many birthday parties in a row can take a toll on you, can’t they?” Victor winked.

“Ha.” Yuuri managed a crooked smile. “You’re not out for lunch with Christophe?”

Victor shook his head and came closer until they were standing side by side, looking out on the city through the wire fence. “You don’t go out for lunch, Yuuri? I’ve never seen you join Steph and the others when they head out.”

“I usually bring my own,” Yuuri replied.

“Yuuri! Don’t tell me you make those adorable Japanese lunch boxes!”

Looking straight ahead, Yuuri smiled. He felt Victor’s eyes on him.

“You are full of surprises!” Victor exclaimed. “Perhaps I can see one of those lunch boxes you make some time.” There was the briefest brush of a hand between his shoulder blades like a shadow of comfort.

Eventually, Yuuri retreated to his favourite spot round the side of the wall where the door led back inside while Victor, after the sneaky lunch cigarette he’d come up to smoke, made to head back inside with a small wave before Yuuri rounded the corner.

“Oh, hi Victor!”

Yuuri flinched when he heard the voice and ducked further back behind the wall, hoping Phichit hadn’t spotted him or seen Victor wave, which would tell him that someone else was still up here.

“Phichit. How are you?” he heard Victor’s cheerful reply.

“Fine. Um… have you seen Yuuri? I’ve been looking for him all over the place.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Chris sent him out to get sandwiches from that fancy vegan place he likes, and you know what he gets like. It has to be done immediately or he throws a tantrum. Were you meeting Yuuri for lunch? I’m afraid he ran out right away and didn’t have a chance to let you know he’d be gone.”

Their voices faded, and Yuuri heard the door slam shut, and then he was alone with the breeze and the faint hum of traffic from far below.

He exhaled audibly, relieved. Grateful. How could Victor possibly have _known?_ He sat down on one of the low concrete pillars and reached for his bento he had deposited there earlier. It was a simple chicken and rice bento today, but while he picked up the first piece of chicken with his chopsticks, he found himself wondering what kind of bento Victor might like.

His phone buzzed in his pocket, but he finished eating first and packed up the empty bento box and chopsticks before he took it out to check. He knew who it was anyway. The message from Phichit was only an image: the picture of the Walkers shortbread sitting on his desk like it was mocking Yuuri. Yuuri’s eyes narrowed. The Specialty Selection, too. The _bastard!_

He took the lift downstairs. Sara Crispino had brought all the various sections of communications, press office, social media and IT together under her management and set up on one whole floor. They called it the newsroom, and Yuuri would _give_ them news, he thought as he swung open the door to it like a man on a mission. Shoulders squared and head held high, he marched through the bustle of desks and screens right up to Phichit’s desk, snatched the box of shortbread to his chest, and marched right back out again without saying a single word or even looking at Phichit, nor anyone else.

“There’s free shortbread for everyone in the kitchen!” Yuuri called out when he arrived back on the top floor.

Laughter came through the open door from Victor’s office. “Of course there is.”

Later that night when Yuuri was already in bed with Vicchan cuddled up by his side and grabbed his phone to check he had set his alarm, he saw he had a couple of messages from Phichit.

**_Phichit_ **

_You okay? You looked uncomfortable today._

_Yuuri! I know you hate losing, and you hate giving up, but really. Screw gambling bets and honor if this makes you uncomfortable._

_You don’t have to see this through to the end. I accept your betting debts as settled._

_D’you want to stop?_

**_Yuuri_ **

_No_.

Phichit’s reply took unusually long for Phichit.

**_Phichit_ **

_That’s my boy!_

“Two more days,” Yuuri told Vicchan. “I can do two more days.” Vicchan seemed supportive. As much as a poodle could. Yuuri’s phone buzzed again.

__

**_Phichit_ **

_Btw, you looked glorious strutting through the newsroom in those heels! I was so proud!_

_Yuuri, you were a VISION!!!_

_The IT guys have christened you Katsu-damn! and at least three of them asked me for your number._

**_Yuuri_ **

🤯

**_Phichit_ **

_G-L-O-R-I-O-U-S!_

🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

**_Yuuri_ **

🤯🤯🤯🤯🤯🤯🤯🤯

**_Phichit_ **

_Nighty night, Katsu-damn!_

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Victor was already at his desk when Yuuri arrived at work on Thursday morning. Yuuri heard him typing as he walked past his open door around the reception desk to get the mail. He was dressed in a dark blue yukata, a short one that came only down his knees and went really well with the frames of his glasses and the tight black jeans and black and navy sneakers Phichit had set out with it. Yuuri suspected Phichit was feeling a little remorseful about the kilt and frilly shirt and had been trying to make amends for Yuuri’s discomfort. 

Not for the heeled Gothic boots though; Yuuri had a sneaking suspicion that after his impromptu Newsroom Stomp the day before and the reactions it had apparently provoked, Phichit was not ready to lay those to rest for some time yet.

“Good morning, Yuuri,” Victor called cheerfully from his office. “And happy birthday to your mum!”

Yuuri grinned over the letters he took from the mail box and arranged in a pile.

“There might be something in the fridge for you,” he remarked casually as he walked by Victor’s door on his way back, but he didn’t stop or even look in at him.

“Really??” he heard him pipe up, but then the phone rang on Victor’s desk, and that was that.

Back at his desk Yuuri reached for his cup of tea. He avoided looking up directly but he was aware of Victor across the hall, talking on the phone and scribbling notes on a pad. Yuuri reached for the pile of letters and began his daily routine of sorting, opening, and putting a date stamp on, following the motions mechanically while his thoughts were on the second bento box in the fridge beside his own, and his grin became even wider.

“Yuuri…”

He looked up when he heard Victor’s voice. Those carpets really must have cost a fortune, Yuuri thought, if Victor always managed to head over here without a sound. Yuuri moved the letters aside and Victor took the hint and sat down on the edge of Yuuri’s desk again.

“Chris isn’t coming in today, yesterday’s meeting apparently went on well into the night and… fuck knows, he’s hungover, I think. Anyways, Jamie’s off sick too so there’s nobody at reception. We’re not expecting anybody, but do you think you could take Jamie’s phone, and go through these figures for me and maybe get some of those diagram things ready for a presentation tomorrow?”

He handed him a pile of printed papers. Yuuri knew that Victor actually had a secretary of his own, but Georgi had been off sick for some time now, and the two trainees only helped out with some of his work but lacked his know-how and dedication.

“Sure.” Yuuri frowned at the pages of Excel tables all broken up and scrambled in parts over way too many pages than necessary. “This is a terrible list, who printed that? Formatting and print area is your friend — oh.” He shut up when he looked up and saw Victor’s sheepish expression. “Sorry.”

Yuuri felt sheepish, too. “Just send me the file and tell me what charts exactly you need.”

“Thank you!” Victor seemed genuinely relieved.

Victor’s mobile phone rang in his hand, and he stood up from Yuuri’s desk when he looked at the display.

“I’m sorry, I need to get this. … Hello darling!” He started pacing around the small seating lounge near Yuuri’s desk, phone at his ear.

“How is she?” He looked concerned, biting his lower lip. “Hm, okay. Can you put her on?”

One moment later his features softened, his voice warm with affection. “How is my favourite girl? Papa’s coming home straight after work today to look after you and give you the biggest cuddle, okay?”

Yuuri averted his eyes and checked his email instead, suddenly feeling like prying on something very private. He realised he didn’t know anything about Victor’s private life, had never heard Leo or Phichit or even Sara talk about it either. Was he married? He didn’t wear a ring, but that didn’t have to mean anything, many married people didn’t. Yuuri had never been inside his office either, so he didn’t know if there were pictures on his desk that would answer that question. But he wasn’t exactly surprised either. Victor just seemed like that kind of person. There clearly was a little girl somewhere who meant the world to him. He was bound to be married, or at least in a relationship. It made perfect sense. People like Victor _always_ were.

Victor ended his call and heaved a huge sigh, running one hand through his hair. “I’ll need to leave on time today, too… and I have to make some calls for Chris now. _Blyad!_ I need this like a hole in the head right now.”

“Victor. Just send me the file and show me what the charts shook look like.” Yuuri gave him what he hoped was an encouraging smile and stood up to walk over to the reception desk to redirect the phones.

“Good thing I’ve got your lunch covered,” he added with a smile over his shoulder.

Victor seemed to remember then that earlier Yuuri had mentioned something was waiting in the fridge for him, and he made a beeline for the kitchen, excited smile on his face.

Yuuri had just redirected the reception phone to his own number when he heard the exclamation from the kitchen, muffled, because Victor most likely had his head in the fridge.

“Yuuri! Amazing!”

Chuckling, Yuuri checked the post boxes for Victor’s mail which was normally Jamie’s job. Might as well take care of that too while he was at it.

“You made me one of those adorable Japanese lunch boxes!” Victor’s smile was wide and heart-shaped when Yuuri came back to his desk and found him standing beside it, obviously flustered.

“Bento.” Yuuri grinned. “It’s called bento. You said yesterday you would like to see one some time… and, well… I had too many ingredients anyway, so...” He shrugged.

“Thank you! This is so kind of you!”

“You’re welcome,” Yuuri murmured. It wasn’t a big deal. Or was it? Victor at least was still beaming like a child at his birthday party when he walked back across the hall to his office.

The lawyers had their door closed that day, having to deal with a copyright infringement incident that Yuuri knew always involved prolonged phone calls and discussions all over the place. He made a mental note to bring them in some coffee and biscuits later, knowing that Christophe would want them to resolve it within the day and expected their report on his desk in the morning.

Victor’s door stayed open all day.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

On Friday morning both Yuuri and Phichit peered down at the clothes Phichit had laid out on Yuuri’s bed.

“I cannot wear this!” Yuuri pointed accusingly at the maroon kurta and white linen pants. “It’s cultural appropriation!”

“You’ve been doing that all week anyway,” Phichit argued.

“I’m Japanese, it’s not cultural approbation when I wear a yukata or _happi!_ And I’ve never heard Scottish people cry cultural approba— you know what? Sod it! It’s the last day, let’s get this over and done with!”

“That’s the spirit. Come on, Yuuri. It’s very subtle. Look, there aren’t even any fancy ornaments or embellishments on it. It will look amazing on you.”

Yuuri’s dilemma was that Phichit was probably right. It was a beautiful piece, a long-sleeved, knee-length A-line with a Mandarin collar and an asymmetric hem, and he was dying to try it on. A pair of formal derby shoes was standing beside the bed, maroon leather and central lace-ups in black, and they were so elegant, and not what he would usually wear, and he _wanted_.

“You need eyeliner!” Phichit announced excitedly when he was done sleeking Yuuri’s hair back. „And then it’s ‚Gooood morning, Katsu-damn!!‘“

“Peach...” Yuuri breathed, a little embarrassed as he looked at himself in the mirror, but far from protesting.

Victor and Chris were in Chris’ office all morning, the two of them still remaining in there after Steph had longcome out from talking about her copyright case. It was pushing close to lunch time and Yuuri was pondering over how he could possibly fit six appointments into Chris’ upcoming two-day business trip when he heard the door open and close.

He didn’t need to look up to see who it was when a shadow fell across his desk.

“Okay, so…whose birthday is it today? No, don’t say anything!“ There was a contemplative pause. „Your Scottish uncle’s estranged brother who was raised in India!”

Yuuri huffed. He was about to say the first stupid thing that came to his mind when his phone screen lit up in front of him and he caught the message from the corner of his eye, Guang Hong asking what they still needed for the samosas as he was heading out to go shopping.

“It’s Bollywood night.” Yuuri looked up.

“Ooookay.” Victor sat down on the edge of Yuuri’s desk. „A different approach today. I like that.“

“No, really. My three closest friends and I watch Bollywood movies on Friday nights and pig out on Indian food.”

“And will those friends vouch for the correctness of this statement if asked?” Victor tried for a stern look with his arms crossed in front of his chest.

“Go right ahead.” Yuuri grinned. He was enjoying this, he realised. Over the course of the week he had come to look forward to his daily banter with Victor. It had made the embarrassment over his funny outfits almost bearable. Part of him was hoping they would continue talking next week even if he didn’t turn up looking like a moron any more. “You’ll find them both downstairs in the newsroom. Phichit and Leo.”

“Leo de la Iglesia?” Victor asked, surprised. “The head of IT? He watches Bollywood movies?”

“Cries over them, too.”

“How delightful!”

Yuuri’s smile deepened. He liked seeing Victor surprised for a change. “We live in the same building. Staff apartments. Phichit, too. You know Phichit, right?”

“Oh, everybody knows Phichit.”

They laughed.

“So you and Phichit and Leo and…”

“Guang Hong. Leo’s boyfriend.”

“Okay. So, you get together on Friday nights with Indian food and watch Bollywood movies?”

“Yep.”

“Every Friday?”

“It used to be once a month but there are just so many of them… so we moved it up.”

Victor nodded, pondering over the answer. “Interesting,” he mused. Suddenly he leaned down, peering very close into Yuuri’s face. “Are you wearing eyeliner???”

Chris’ door flew open and he came rushing out.

“Victor! Come back in!” He looked past Victor at Yuuri. “You too.”

Yuuri jumped up right away and instinctively reached for a notepad and pen.

“Okay, Chris, what’s up?” Victor asked once they were inside his office. They all remained standing, unsure how long this was going to take.

“We have a Japanese girl working in cooperations,” Chris began.

“Yūko Nishigori, yes.” Victor nodded. “What about her?”

“Does she have children?”

“She has triplets, yes.”

“Good god!” Chris uttered. Victor rolled his eyes at him.

“I’m not really sure if I’m getting this right because the English in this email is terrible,” Chris went on. “But it looks like for some reason a video filmed on her phone when she visited one of our milk suppliers was posted online by her children and picked up by a Japanese news station.”

“Why would someone take their children along for a business meeting with our suppliers?” Yuuri asked. It seemed like such an inappropriate thing to do.

“That’s a good question.” Chris frowned like that thought hadn’t even occurred to him. “Why indeed?”

“I said it’s okay,” Victor admitted. “Kids love seeing the animals. I’ve let other colleagues take their kids along to see the cows, too. They always find it so exciting and fun. It’s good for city children to get out in the countryside.”

“Oh.” Yuuri breathed.

“Anyway!” Chris brought them back on the subject at hand. “As I said, that video apparently made it on the news in Japan.”

Victor exchanged a confused glance with Yuuri.

“And… is that a good or a bad thing?” Victor asked cautiously.

“Depends. A delegation from Japan wants to come and visit us. See the company, meet the suppliers, maybe some sightseeing, the lot. Further cooperation is optional, though if I understand correctly they’re into the idea of selling our chocolates with the pictures of the cows on the wrapper…? The actual cows the milk for that chocolate comes from?”

He turned to Yuuri, questioning, as if Yuuri had the answer.

“I would have to see the email, sometimes things get lost in translation,” Yuuri said diplomatically.

“Okay.” Chris walked over to his side of the desk and grabbed his laptop. He motioned for them to join him at the small meeting table set up in one corner of his office.

“I don’t see any issue here, we’ve done loads of these delegations, although never from Japan. When do they want to come?” Victor asked as he pulled out a chair for himself.

“Ah, you see, that’s the problem…” Chris started while Yuuri leaned down to skim over the email.

“ _Next week???”_ Yuuri yelled when he saw the date that was requested. Blushing, he caught himself.

“I’m sorry, sir!” He bowed slightly to Chris.

“Yuuri, stop this ‘sir’ nonsense right now!” Victor said. “And you’re not calling him Mr. Giacometti either,” he added when he saw Yuuri open his mouth to speak. “And stop bowing, we’re not royalty.”

He shot Chris an exasperated glare, just in case he was even _thinking_ of saying something now. Chris obediently closed his mouth.

“So… Christophe?” Yuuri suggested after a long moment, cautiously.

“Please, no, only my father calls me Christophe!” Chris recoiled.

“Just call him Chris, for god’s sake.” Victor arranged two more chairs around one corner of the table so that all three of them could sit down and look at the laptop screen.

Yuuri leaned in close and began to read the email again. “The English is really…adventurous. Can I reply to this email and ask if they can send it in Japanese? It’ll be quicker if I translate for you from Japanese.”

“Isn’t it already evening there?” Victor frowned. “Will anyone still see it today?”

Yuuri shrugged. “Only one way to find out. If not, we’ll continue on Monday.”

“Monday is good.” Chris nodded. “Monday is perfect.”

Yuuri was already typing at the laptop. He wrote a quick email in English, then set the keyboard to Japanese and wrote the same text again. The reply took only a minute. Yuuri opened the mail immediately and read it, then opened an attachment.

“Okay, so… he sent a list of things of what they would like to see and do. The quickest way to do it is probably for me to read it, tell you what it says, and then for us to decide what we can and can’t do.”

“Perfect.” Determined, Victor inched his chair closer to Yuuri’s and reached for the pen and notepad.

They fell into a stop and go routine of Yuuri going through the list point for point and providing a translation, then they quickly discussed the options, and Victor took notes.

“The problem is the time. They want to come on Wednesday. That leaves us with… no time at all.” Victor was tapping a steady rhythm on the table with the pen. “At least there’s no exhibition in town at the moment so we should be able to find hotel rooms.”

“It’s very unusual for Japanese people to spring something like this on someone without enough lead time to plan ahead,” Yuuri said timidly. “I’m very sorry.”

“Why are _you_ apologising?” Victor frowned.

Yuuri heaved an exasperated sigh and concentrated on the laptop screen once more. Cultural sentiment was just too hard to explain, so he didn’t even try.

“We still have hotel contingents for business partners with cheaper rates, don’t we?” Chris rubbed his chin between thumb and forefinger in thought.

Yuuri looked up from the laptop. “They want to visit Heidi country.”

“Of course they do,” Chris groaned. “What is it with you Japanese people and Heidi? They probably also want to meet the cows personally. Oh god…” He froze. “Please tell me they don’t want to meet the cows!”

Yuuri squinted at the screen as he read on. “They want to meet the cows.”

Chris closed his eyes and throw his head back in defeat. Victor laughed.

“I’ll find out if the cows can squeeze in an appointment,” Victor offered to put Chris out of his misery and gave him a comforting pat on the shoulder.

“They’re also asking if it’s possible to visit Paris, Munich, Vienna and Heidelberg while they’re here.”

Chris threw his hands up in the air, like he had seen that coming.

“In five days??” Victor gaped.

“Have you ever seen Asian people travel?” Chris asked.

“For fuck’s sake, Chris, don’t be racist!” Victor glared at him.

“I was merely referring to seeing as many places as possible in as short a time as possible,” Chris shot back.

“Oh, and Rome,” Yuuri cut in, looking up from the screen.

“But of course.” Chris muttered. “It’s like when the Americans come over, they always believe Europe is so small they can see the whole of it in a week.”

“That’s it,” Yuuri said. “That’s the list.”

“Thank you.” Chris gave him a nod. “That’s been a great help. Now, what can we tell them?”

Yuuri looked slightly taken aback by the thanks and acknowledgement.

“What about Milan?” Victor suggested. “I don’t think if we can pull off the other stuff at such short notice, but maybe Mickey can find something equally interesting for them in Milan.”

“I’ll call him right now.” Chris stood up and went over to his desk to retrieve his phone.

“I’ll check hotels for availability,” Yuuri said. They agreed to each make some calls and put together a first proposal of what would be possible at such short notice.

“That should be it, for today,” Yuuri said as he attached the file to the email a while later and sent it. “It’s late, they shouldn’t still be working, not even in Japan.”

They had just rearranged the chairs and Yuuri said he would make coffee and get some sandwiches, when a reply email came in. The three looked at each other, then at the laptop. Sure enough, there was a new email in Chris’ inbox with the reply to their proposal.

“Someone’s eager…” Chris frowned. “It’s late in the evening there, is it not? Who’s still working?”

“I guess they put a trainee or newbie in place who has to sort all this out for them by the time they get back in to work.” Yuuri sat back down and pulled the laptop close, opening the email.

“That’s short, no?” Victor was leaning over Yuuri’s shoulder. “Maybe they just said ‘Thank you, let’s talk more after the weekend.’”

“They like the proposal and ask if we can video call.” Yuuri looked up.

“Now??” Chris’ eyes widened. “It’s Friday afternoon, I’m normally not even here anymore at this time on a Friday!”

“Of course now, does this look they want to waste time to you?” Victor shook his head.

“I’ll talk to him,” Yuuri offered. “His email signature says he’s the assistant of management, my guess is he’s very young and eager to do well and prove himself. I’ll talk to him right away, if that’s alright?”

“More than alright.” Victor decided, relieved. “Can we make some coffee for you in the meantime, Yuuri?”

“No, thanks.” He thought for a moment. “Do you think you can make green tea though?”

“I can try.” Victor beamed.

Yuuri turned towards the laptop and started the video call. The call connected, and something about Yuuri’s whole demeanour suddenly changed, as if his European self took a step back when the Japanese took over.

” _konban wa. Crispino to Giacometti no Katsuki Yuuri desu._ ” He bowed to the screen. “ _hajimemashite_.”

The young man on the screen looked more than a little relieved to be able to speak to someone in Japanese.

“ _Katsuki-san, konban wa! Saito Shouji no Minami Kenjirou desu. yoroshiku onegaishimasu!_ ” He also bowed, a little lower than Yuuri.

“Is he legally old enough to do business, and after hours?” Chris murmured to Victor.

“Chris.” Victor shook his head again. “Let Yuuri handle this and get coffee with me.”

From the kitchen they watched and listened to Yuuri converse in rapid Japanese. He took notes both online and offline, and there was a lot of ‘hai’ and ‘sou, sou’ and nodding in reply to whatever was said on the other end. And while Victor could have sworn he had heard a lot of “-san” in the beginning, he didn’t hear Yuuri address the other man like that anymore as the call proceeded, it was all “Minami-kun” this and “Minami-kun” that.

Chris leaned in closer, deep voice literally purring into Victor’s ear. “Our bet is still on, is it? Because nothing’s happening for me yet.” He looked pointedly at his crotch.

“Oh, we’re just getting started,” Victor smirked. “I got you on first name basis, didn’t I?”

“Mhm, I don’t know, _mon cher_. You stopped him from calling me ‘sir’, I don’t see how that will help your cause. You know what that does to me.”

Victor grinned wider. “Just let him talk to you in Japanese like that, I can imagine that’ll work even better than ‘sir’.”

Out in Chris’ office Yuuri ended the video call and looked around when he noticed he was still alone.

Victor gave Chris a nudge that told him that the banter was over and it was time to be professional again.

“I don’t know if it’s any good,” Victor said as he handed Yuuri a mug of steaming green tea. “I looked up how to make it online.”

“Thank you.” Yuuri took a sip. Frowned. “It’s… drinkable,” he concluded. But he winked.

“So...” Yuuri glanced at his notes. “Minami-kun and I have gone through every point on the list and he kept going back and forth with his superiors at the same time. I think we have a rough plan now. We’ve already got them booked in a hotel and they’ll have a small bus with a driver to pick them up from the airport and take them places. The only thing that could become problematic is that we may not find a Japanese tour guide and interpreter. There aren’t too many around anyway, especially not at such short notice.”

“Can’t you do it?” Chris asked.

Yuuri’s eyes widened. “I… um. I never thought about that. I’m not qualified for it, but it’s very kind of you to think I am. I could probably cram in enough knowledge about the city to give them a tour, but I don’t know the first thing about meeting suppliers. Or cows.” He smiled faintly. “So I don’t think they would get much benefit from my being there. Unless…”

His eyes suddenly began to sparkle with an idea.

“Unless…?” Both Victor and Chris eyed him curiously.

“Well… I suspect that Yūko-san feels very remorseful because her children posted that video and in the aftermath caused extra work and inconvenience for us. If she could make amends in some way… perhaps, in the form of a favour? Like… translating for the delegation when they visit the milk suppliers?”

Victor leaned in until he was so close Yuuri felt the warmth of his breath on his ear and the warm musky scent of his perfume fill his senses. “Yuuuuri…” He was practically purring. “Are you suggesting to guilt-trip your very sweet co-worker into acting as interpreter for our guests?”

“It’s an emergency?” Yuuri smiled sheepishly, eyes still sparkling. “It would work on _me_ … and any Japanese person I know.”

“I’ll go downstairs and talk to her right now.” Chris rose from his seat.

“Be nice!” Victor called after him as he left the room.

Chris paused and turned around, throwing Victor his most devastatingly charming smile and a wink for good measure, demonstrating just how nice he was planning on being.

Yuuri just shook his head, irritated, as he reached for the pad and started typing out the notes in a document he had opened on the laptop. “What?” he asked without pausing what he was doing when he felt Victor watching him.

“Nothing. I’m just… impressed. You just snapped into action and took charge, it was amazing. We need all the networking we can get, there’s no guarantee for business going on successfully in this day and age, especially with the insecurities regarding the British market. And you looked like you were really enjoying what you were doing.”

Yuuri stopped typing and leaned back in the chair. “I just… like taking care of things. And Minami-kun really kept me on my toes.”

Victor had one arm propped up on the table, chin resting in his hand as he looked at him.

“For some reason we’ve never tried to get a foot in the door in Japan. Do you think Japanese people would be interested in our products, Yuuri?”

Yuuri stared at him for a moment. Then he smirked, barely noticeable. “Let me tell you some day about how and why I’m here, Victor,” he murmured very quietly.

Another email from Minami came in, preventing any reply Victor might have given.

“Damn, he’s fast. And efficient.” Yuuri peered at the laptop, then turned it around to show Victor. “He’s already sent passport copies and info on all the delegation members.”

“Wow!” Victor leaned over. “He’s a Japanese Yuuri!”

Yuuri looked at him incredulously. “ _I’m_ a Japanese Yuuri.”

For a moment they looked at each other, then burst out laughing.

It was six by the time they left the building. Chris took off in his Jaguar without a goodbye, just a wave from the open window, and Yuuri found himself left stranded on the pavement with Victor. The afternoon had been so busy, with the tension wearing off now, he felt exhausted. It was a good exhaustion though. For the first time in this position he had actually felt something of a hint at what a positive working relationship with his boss could be like. It was probably Victor’s presence, but for the first time in weeks Yuuri felt that accomplishment one feels after a really good workday. He looked at Victor, wondering why he hadn’t said goodbye and left yet, after the fond look he had given Chris driving off.

“So.” Yuuri said.

“So.” Victor cocked his head.

Yuuri couldn’t hold in a grin. “What?”

“I was wondering if Bollywood night is actually real.”

Yuuri laughed. “Of course it is. You can come along and see for yourself if you don’t believe me.”

Victor’s eyes narrowed. Yuuri felt himself flush. “I’m sorry! I mean…it was just a thought! You probably have somewhere to be anyway, and… someone waiting for you… ugh. Just forget I said anything!”

“I’d love to.”

Yuuri needed a moment to process. “Really?” he finally asked. “No plans?”

“Not tonight, my usual dinner date’s not happening. I just need to quickly check in at home, and then I’m ready to go.”

“Sure.” Yuuri nodded. His phone rang, and he saw Phichit’s name on the display. He had sent him a quick text in the early afternoon when it was clear he’d probably have to work overtime.

Victor motioned for him to go ahead and take the call, taking out his own phone from his pocket.

“Yuuri?” he heard Phichit’s cheerful voice when he connected the call. “Are you off the hook yet?”

“Just finished and ready to come home. Listen, Phichit, can I bring Victor? We’ve been working nonstop since this morning with barely a break and his dinner plans got cancelled. And!” He made a little pause for effect, knowing Phichit loved that stuff. “He doesn’t believe Bollywood night is real.”

He glanced over at Victor, who was typing out a message on his phone but smiled at Yuuri’s words without looking up.

“A Bollywood virgin!” Phichit gasped. Yuuri was pretty sure he was putting one hand on his heart dramatically right about now. “Bring him to me! Hang on, I’ll ask the guys…” Yuuri heard muffled voices for a moment, then Phichit came back on the line. “You can tell the uncivilised Russian that China, America and Thailand have gracefully agreed to widen his cultural horizon. Anyways, the reason I’m calling. Can you get fresh coriander and papadums on the way home?”

“How are we out _again_??? I thought for sure I saw some around.”

“We always think that and it’s never true. We are _always_ out of coriander and papadums, we’re ridiculous like that. Accept our fate, Yuuri.”

“We’ll pick some up on the way. See you, Peach.”

Yuuri ended the call and lowered his phone. Victor had put his phone away by now, too, and was looking at him, tie loosened, one hand in his pocket, waiting.

“China, America, Thailand and Japan are willing to widen the uncivilised Russian’s cultural horizon.” Yuuri grinned. “You’re officially invited to Bollywood night.”

Victor picked up on the playful dramatics and placed a hand over his heart. “I’m honoured.”

Yuuri led the way to the nearby supermarket. Victor was talking incessantly.

“So. Do I get to wear a sari?”

“No.”

“Does anyone wear a sari?”

“Not when we’re sober.”

“Yuuuuri! Do you _have_ a sari?”

Blushing, Yuuri picked up a potted coriander and shoved it into Victor’s arms. “I might.”

He turned his back on him and headed for the international food section to pick up the papadums, Victor’s delighted laughter following him through the aisles.

“Let’s get wine,” Victor announced when they had everything and Yuuri was making for the check-out.

“Why?” Yuuri frowned.

“I need to bring something, of course.”

“No, you don’t, it’s okay. You can pay for the coriander if you insist, that’s plenty.”

“No, Yuuri,” Victor said patiently. “When you’re invited to somebody’s house you bring a gift. It’s bad manners not to. Lilia would have my head on a plate if I didn’t. So. Wine, flowers or chocolate - what will it be for you gentlemen?”

In the end he got a selection of all three, just in case.

Victor insisted on hailing a taxi, claiming that his own car was currently in for inspection and they had worked too hard and bought too much to waste time and energy on public transport.

“Are you sure you’re not needed elsewhere?” Yuuri asked once they were seated in the back and he caught Victor slipping his phone back into his pocket after checking his messages and sending off another one.

Victor nodded and smiled warmly. “I usually have dinner with Yakov and Lilia on Friday nights. But they’re in Russia at the moment, visiting family and friends.”

“Yakov… Feltsman?” Yuuri asked, somewhat in awe. The third founding father of Crispino & Giacometti was something of a mystery, shunning the limelight, not even wanting to be part of the company’s name.

Victor nodded. He averted his eyes and looked out of the car window. Yuuri would have found it rude if he hadn’t caught the pained expression suddenly flitting over his face.

“My parents died when I was very young. Car crash. I barely remember them.” Victor’s voice was very soft.

“I’m sorry,” Yuuri said quietly. He had not seen that coming.

Victor turned his face back towards him, wistful smile pursing his lips that didn’t reach his eyes. “Yakov was a friend of the family. He became my guardian, and I’ve lived with him and Lilia ever since. When they moved over here I came with them. They’re the only family I’ve ever known, apart from one grandmother whom I went to visit every summer holiday until she passed away. Yakov and Lilia never had any children of their own, sadly. I think it might have something to do with the strains Lilia put on her body, becoming prima ballerina at the Bolshoi in the Soviet era, though I never asked, of course.”

His smile deepened, bloomed all the way up to his eyes with a fondness now that chased the shadows away. “They make up for it by doing a lot of charity work for schools and orphanages. Get children into sports and the like. And take in strays, like me or Mila.”

Yuuri had met Mila, who was currently undergoing training in product design. She had started just before he moved on to become Chris’ secretary. He hadn’t been aware that she was this closely connected to Victor or Yakov though.

“I’ve always wondered,” Yuuri worried his bottom lip between his teeth, nervous about whether he should say what was on his mind. “Why you have a different name. And about your connection. I believed from your similar biographies that you’ve known Christophe... I mean, Chris, for a long time. Had one of those really close friendships that form at school, went to university together and that’s why he brought you in as his deputy CEO.”

“You know your history, Yuuri.” Victor smiled. “It was one of the things listed right at the top in your file coming back from the assessment centre. It said you showed in-depth knowledge of the company and great dedication. Everyone felt that you really wanted to commit yourself to us and highly recommended we hire you.”

“I figured you saw my file.” Suddenly Yuuri felt shy. He had noticed personnel files in Victor’s mail.

“I see every file, Yuuri.” Victor’s grin was positively wolfish. “Every personnel file goes over my desk before it gets to Chris. There’s not a single interview taking place in this company that I haven’t approved of.”

“Hm.” Yuuri tried not to think too hard over the fact that even his HR file apparently made him out to be a total Crispino & Giacometti fanboy. Or that he was currently in the back of a taxi with one of his bosses. Because the next level of that thought spiral would definitely be _What the hell were you thinking inviting him over???!!!_

Victor laughed softly. “I’m perhaps... a bit better at judging and handling people than Chris is, as you might have noticed. That’s the whole secret.”

Victor was talking unabashedly. It relaxed Yuuri a bit. He tried to remind himself of the fact that he frequently met Sara on a strictly non-business level. He could do friends with Sara. He could do _this_. Or could he?

“As for your assumption on why Chris brought me in as his deputy - that is exactly what happened.” Victor didn’t seem to mind Yuuri’s prying at all. “It’s just not the whole story. We go back much further. I don’t really have much left of my parents but the name and a couple of fading photographs. The life I remember begins here.” He nodded at the city outside the taxi window.

“So when Yakov got in with C&G he brought you here with him…” Yuuri mused. “Then you already knew Chris when you were children?”

“Yes. Chris, Sara, Mickey and I, we grew up together between desks and business meetings. The next generation of Crispino & Giacometti.”

“Not Feltsman?”

“Oh, no. Yakov has never liked the spotlight. When we were children we would make up stories about where his money came from. That he was really the godfather of the Russian mafia. It was good fun. He indulged us, too. When we asked him, his face never gave anything away. But there is this tiny twitch in the corner of his mouth when he’s trying not to smile. If you don’t know him well, you’d never notice.” Victor was amused by the memories, and very obviously very fond of Yakov.

“So what…” Yuuri didn’t dare ask, even though he was dying to know.

“What _is_ Yakov’s background?” Victor laughed. “Natural resources in Russia. I’m pretty sure there’s a copper mine in Kazakhstan somewhere in there, too. Nowadays also real estate. That and an uncanny talent for making money and handling it right.”

Yuuri felt elated, being able to finally ask questions he’d been wondering over for so long. “Did you ever think you would do something completely different when you grow up? Or was it always C&G for you?”

“Always. I’m sure our parents would have let us do whatever we desired… well, apart from Chris’.” A brief frown appeared on Victor’s face at the mention of them. “We grew up loving it, it’s our family. I can’t remember a time when we were ever not firmly believing that one day we would carry on the torch.”

The taxi pulled up outside Yuuri’s building and Victor handed the driver a banknote that included a generous tip before Yuuri even had a chance to protest.

“Let me pay you back half of the fare,” Yuuri said as they walked up to the entrance and he punched in the code to enter the building.

“Don’t be silly. I insisted on taking a taxi. You don’t need to pay for my being spoilt.” Victor grinned and followed Yuuri inside and through the foyer, past the letter boxes and up to the lift.

“This is nice.” Victor looked around the apartment building with interest as they walked up to Yuuri’s door. „I knew we’d bought in a little more real estate for our staff who move here from abroad because it gets difficult for them sometimes to find apartments.“

Yuuri hummed his approval. “I feel very privileged. I stayed in the normal staff dorm for a while in the beginning, but then an apartment became available here, so the timing was right. I really like this place,” Yuuri said as he opened the door to his apartment. “I’ve got friends here and enough space for.... _Vicchan!”_

He had not meant to end his sentence on a shout but the moment they stepped inside, two very excited dogs ran into them, jumping up on their legs and scurrying around them.

“Oh, hi! Hiii!! Who’s this?” Victor’s smile became huge and heart-shaped. He instantly put down the shopping bag to crouch down and scoop the dogs up instead. Next thing Yuuri knew he found his boss sitting on the floor in his tailor-made suit, laughing and cooing under the onslaught of a white and a chocolate-coloured fur ball. He was like a completely different person.

“Oh, aren’t you _gorgeous_?” Victor buried his face in wriggling fur for a moment before he flashed a thousand-watt smile at Yuuri. “Yuuri, are they yours?” And Yuuri laughed softly because Victor looked ridiculously happy, hair tousled and getting white dog hair all over his expensive black suit but loving every moment of it.

“Just this little rascal here. This is Vicchan.” Yuuri went down on one knee and picked up the poodle, laughing harder when Vicchan immediately started licking his face. “The white cloud is Guang Hong’s, his name is Ying Kong Shi.”

“He’ll answer to Shi though.” A voice came from somewhere above them. “Hi Victor,” Guang Hong said cheerfully. 

“Ji?” Victor asked, surprised, his hands stilling in Shi’s soft white fur.

“You know each other?” asked Leo, leaning over Guang Hong’s shoulder and nodding hello.

“He’s freelancing for us,” Victor explained and looked at Yuuri. “When you said Guang Hong, I wasn’t aware…”

“That’s right. I think I was introduced by my last name only to you at the time and never corrected you.” Guang Hong rubbed his nose, seeming a little embarrassed.

“More likely I was stupid and didn’t realise that Ji was not your first name,” Victor admitted sheepishly.

“Thank _god_ , he’s not perfect, contrary to popular believe!” Leo exclaimed theatrically and grinned.

But Yuuri, who had come to notice throughout the week how much care Victor always took to know the people at work by name, noted that he was slightly irritated with himself. He stood and held out one hand to Victor to help him up. Victor took it, the dogs leaving him for a moment but staying close.

“Take a seat and make yourself at home, Phichit and I are going to get the rest of the food ready,” Yuuri told Victor and pointed towards the living room, where a large comfortable looking sofa and an armchair stood around a coffee table already loaded with all kinds of Indian snacks.

Yuuri declined his offer to help with anything and told him to sit down instead. Victor returned the greeting Phichit was calling out to him from the kitchen and picked the armchair close to the lower end of the couch. The other end of the couch was already occupied by Leo with Guang Hong in his arms. Yuuri came over and placed a bottle of Indian beer and a glass on the coffee table in front of Victor, though before he could pour himself a drink, Shi hopped into Victor’s lap. Victor was, unsurprisingly, over the moon.

“What does his name mean?” he asked, looking away from the black button eyes for one moment to address Guang Hong.

“Oh, he’s named after a character in a Chinese fantasy series who also has white hair and is quite extra. It seemed fitting.” Guang Hong snuggled back in Leo’s embrace.

“He’s a Spitz?”

“Japanese Spitz.”

“Was he an adorable puppy? He looks like he was an adorable puppy. Don’t you, gorgeous?” He nuzzled Shi’s head and laughed when Shi licked his face.

“The most adorable!” Despite Leo groaning protest behind him, not unlike any father who’s embarrassed about pictures of his child being shown off for the millionth time, Guang Hong took out his phone and called up some photos, then handed it to Victor.

Victor happily flailed his way through several pictures and videos of puppy Shi before Vicchan yipped at him and pawed at his shin. Victor laughed and handed Guang Hong his phone back before he leaned down and scooped Vicchan up. “Look at you, are you jealous? There’s no need, sweet thing, I’ve got enough cuddles for the both of you.” Guang Hong took tons of pictures with his phone, and then with Victor’s phone, and then Victor snapped some “family portraits” by Guang Hong’s request of Leo and Guang Hong with Shi.

Yuuri was watching it all from the kitchen with a grin on his face until he felt Phichit’s elbow in his side.

“Careful, honey, he’s your boss!” Phichit wriggled immaculately plucked eyebrows.

“Phichit!” Blushing, Yuuri shook his head. “It’s just... all week I’ve had this guy teasing me about my outfits while he looked so smooth and aloof in his tailored suits, and now I know he turns into the most ridiculous goofball when you place a dog in his lap.”

“And _you_ have been known to turn into a drooling puddle for a handsome man with a lap full of puppies. So. Careful!”

“Pffft! For all we know he’s happily married with three kids and a house in the suburbs.”

“He probably is. People like him always are,” Phichit agreed and headed to the sink to drain the fresh mint and coriander he had been soaking in water.

Yuuri turned towards the pot on the stove and tested the temperature with the end of a wooden spoon. Bubbles formed around the wood and floated up, and he nodded to himself and started deep-frying the whole of one of the two packs of papadums he’d brought while Phichit worked beside him and quickly mixed coriander, mint, garlic and spices into a green chutney with well-practiced ease and speed in a huge granite mortar.

It was somewhere between the sixth and seventh papadum that the snake inside Yuuri’s stomach bit.

“Peach! What am I doing???” he whispered frantically. “He’s my boss! Why did I invite him over here??”

Phichit lowered the pestle and looked over towards the living room, where Leo, Guang Hong and Victor were engaged in lively conversation with the dogs happily curled up in Victor’s lap.

“We’re on an educational mission here, Yuuri. You’re offering this Bollywood virgin up to me at the altar of cultural enlightenment.” He filled green sauce from the mortar into a small bowl.

“Phichit, for god’s sake!” Yuuri hated how hysterical he sounded even when whispering.

“Yuuri.” Phichit put the bowl aside and placed both hands on Yuuri’s shoulders. “Calm down! You probably asked him because he’s nice and approachable, and it seemed right at that moment. He’s not an asshole like Chris. If he had someplace he’d rather want to be he would be there right now, not here.”

“What if he reads anything into it?” They stuck their heads together, whispering frantically.

“What could he possibly read into it? Yuuri, seriously. You’re watching Bollywood movies with your friends, with Indian food the smell of which will sit in his fancy clothes for weeks. His whole suit is covered in dog hair. He’s having the time of his life! He wouldn’t be talking to Leo and Guang Hong this animatedly or cuddling your dogs if he couldn’t wait to be alone with you. And I don’t see him ogling you in secret...” His eyebrows shot up. “Which is more than I can say about _you_!”

Yuuri slowly calmed down under Phichit’s words and the hands on his shoulder.

“Victor’s a nice guy, Yuuri. Leo and Guang Hong both said so while you were on your way over here. He has dinner with Yakov and Lilia on Fridays according to Leo, but they’re out of town. For all we know he’s just lonely and doesn’t want to spend a Friday evening on his own.”

“But he has a—“

“Yuuri!” Phichit’s expression became stern. “Don’t overthink! You’ve had one hell of a week and the nerves are probably catching up with you. Don’t think of him as your boss. He’s just a nice co-worker who chose to accept an invitation for reasons only he can probably know. Let’s go with the simplest, which is that he also just sees you as a really nice co-worker and perhaps he’s in the mood for a silly movie and Indian food. Okay?”

Yuuri nodded, slowly. Took a couple of deep breaths. “Okay.” Inhale. Exhale. “Okay, Peach.”

“That’s my boy.” Phichit smiled and tousled Yuuri’s hair affectionately. “Now finish frying up those papadums so we can start.”

“So. Are you ready for your audition with the queen?” Phichit addressed Victor a short time later when he and Yuuri came over from the kitchen and put a plate holding a tower of crispy, deep-fried papadums on the table, along with another plate holding several small pots with different kinds of sauces, the largest among them the green chutney Phichit had prepared.

“Peach.” Yuuri shook his head, a little exasperated. “Don’t mind him,” he told Victor as he sat down at the lower end of the couch, close to Victor in the armchair. “Queen means ‘Rani’ in Hindi, and it’s the name of Phichit’s favourite actress. We’re about to watch one of her movies.”

His nerves had settled and he was actually more than ready now for a movie night that would just let him forget the week he’d had. There was a reason Phichit considered himself the Yuuri Whisperer.

“It’s _our_ favourite actress, Yuuri, don’t lie to the man!” Phichit side-eyed him and sat down on the carpet in front of the couch, claiming he needed to be closer to the screen when the queen was on TV.

“ _Not_ _my_ favourite actress,” Yuuri murmured quietly to Victor with a conspiratorial smirk.

“So, are there rules? Can we talk or do we watch in silence?” Victor wanted to know after he had established that he was in fact not driving anyone from his usual seat by occupying the armchair.

“We can talk," Leo replied. “We can make fun, use our phones in between for looking up movie-related facts or for checking our messages, but no calls, neither incoming nor outgoing. We don’t pause for bathroom breaks or for getting more drinks from the fridge, but for other emergencies like when the papadums are finished and we need to deep-fry a few more.”

“Or a lot more,” Yuuri added.

“Or when the dogs quickly need to go out,” Guang Hong said.

“Or when _some_ of us...” And here Leo nudged his chin pointedly at Yuuri, Phichit and Guang Hong, “have been too deep in their Kingfisher cups and insist on putting on saris and dance along for the rest of the movie.”

“Oh, you _love_ that, Leo!” Phichit waved the remote control around, eager to get started. He turned to Victor as the opening credits started to play on the TV, showing sliding pictures of three children over the names of actors and the people who had worked on the movie.

Phichit was still briefing Victor. “Flailing and drooling is allowed, dancing and singing along is fine and very much encouraged. Also! It is allowed to make fun of everything and everyone except the queen. Anyone who makes fun of the queen is kicked out by me personally!”

Yuuri grinned at Victor. “Phichit takes his Bollywood very seriously.”

“I can see that.” Victor chuckled. “What about crying?”

“Crying is mandatory,” Guang Hong said and picked up a box of tissues from the floor by the couch and placed it in the centre of all the food. “We absolutely don’t want people here who don’t cry over a good tear-jerking Bollywood moment.”

“Understood.” Victor nodded.

_[The movie starts with a scene that shows three families at a train station in India. One of them is getting a send-off by their friends. The father of the family is starting a job in London as he believes computer technology is the future.]_

Everyone in the room snickered.

_“_ It pays _my_ bills alright,” said Leo, and more snickering ensued.

_[Of the three children from the opening credits, the boy, is leaving for London with his parents. The two girls are already clearly distinguishable: one is pretty and very girly-girly, the other one looks quieter and a little shy. She clearly likes the boy and hates to see him go. The boy, of course, likes the pretty one and asks her to write to him while he is London. She says she will.]_

“She’ll _never_ write to him,” Guang Hong prophesied.

“Are we allowed to make assumptions?” Victor quietly asked Yuuri, leaning the slightest bit over.

“Oh, absolutely,” Yuuri grinned. “That’s part of the fun.”

_[The pretty girl, Tina, has no interest in writing to the boy in London. But the other girl, the quiet one, Pooja, does. So she writes to him, pretending to be Tina. There’s a time skip; they are grown up and still writing to each other. They share their interests, their secrets. They fall in love. Raj announces that he’s coming back to India. Pooja gets scared, but doesn’t tell him that she isn’t Tina, she merely says perhaps she will not be who he expects. He says he will recognise her instantly because he carries her picture in his heart.]_

“Oh god, he won’t!” Victor exclaimed, crestfallen. “He’ll go straight for the other one, won’t he?”

The others laughed, and Phichit gave Yuuri an approving thumbs up as if to say that he’d brought a suitable person along who fit right in.

“He’s a bit of a dumbass, isn’t he?” Leo commented on the hero’s overly exalted attempts to come on to the now grown up and very sexy Tina as soon as he was back in India. “Are we sure we’re rooting for him to get the girl?”

“They’re trying to make us believe that he’s shallow enough to go for the sexy girl rather than the quiet one,” Phichit frowned at the screen. “But just wait for it, the queen will still overthrow him with her pure and devastating charms!”

“Peach, you’re such a fanboy,” Yuuri teased.

“He’s right though,” Victor said. “She’s much prettier. The other one looks…” He fell silent, not wanting to say something mean.

“Cheap,” Guang Hong finished for him. Nobody disagreed.

“What is that they’re eating?” Phichit peered closer towards the screen where Pooja hand-fed Raj piping hot gobi parathas. “I want to try that!”

“You just want Rani to feed them to you,” Guang Hong smirked and bit into a samosa.

“Gobi paratha,” Leo said, phone in hand. “Already looking up the recipe for next time.”

_[On a trip to London, Pooja visits a church with Raj and hums a melody he sent her in one of his letters. Suddenly he understands why all the things from his letters never made any sense to Tina. The truth is out, he knows now that Pooja was the one writing the letters all that time.]_

Yuuri heard a soft “Oh!” beside him. He turned his head and saw Victor watching completely mesmerised, as the drama unfolded.

_[Raj confronts Pooja about the prank he thinks the girls played on him. Pooja quotes his words back to him: that he would recognise her right away because he carries her picture in his heart. She tells him he didn’t, that he walked straight past her and towards her prettier friend. She tells him that we always wish for the ones we love to be beautiful but that she isn’t. That he should probably go for her friend, who also loves him. He says he can’t - he’s always loved the one who wrote the letters. He loves_ her _.]_

“Oh, that is romantic!” Victor murmured. Yuuri reached for the tissue box and very subtly handed a couple to Victor when he heard very, _very_ quiet snivelling beside him.

_[Raj and Pooja arrive back in India to tell their families they love each other. They find a funeral - Tina’s father has died. She is all alone in the world now - and seeks comfort in Raj. Pooja tells Raj they have to sacrifice their love for their friend who has lost both her parents now. That he should marry Tina.]_

“Fuck, NO!” Phichit yelled, making everyone jump including the dogs. Victor quickly cuddled them to his chest so that they didn’t fall off his lap.

In between Phichit bitching abuse at the screen as a heart wrenching story played out that kept the lovers apart, Guang Hong remarked, “Imagine loving your best friend so much that you sacrifice your own true love for their happiness. Or selflessly stepping down… “

“I would never! I would raise hell, and I sure as hell hope you wouldn’t even think I would do such a stupid thing as to forsake what we have for the happiness of either your or my best friend!” Leo told Guang Hong with a passion one usually only ever saw him display when the servers crashed at work and the internet and thus the internet-based telephones broke down.

Guang Hong smiled and snuggled back into him. “Since _you_ are also my best friend, Leo, and I am yours, your point is moot, but I very much appreciate the confirmation.” He turned his head back for a kiss, and Leo obliged, while his arms came round tight around Guang Hong’s middle and he held him just a little bit closer if that was even possible.

Phichit’s head swung round. “Yuuri, you know I love you more than life itself but I honestly couldn’t promise you if I’d be able to let you have my own true love if I ever find them, just so that you could be happy!”

“That’s alright, Peach.” Yuuri grinned. “I wouldn’t let you do it it anyway.”

“Victor?” Guang Hong asked. “Would you renounce your true love for your best friend’s happiness?”

Victor smiled. “That is a very valid question…” he said evasively.

“Victor’s best friend is Chris Giacometti, I guess that would be a really stupid thing to do.”

“Phichit!” Yuuri groaned, exasperated. “It’s none of our business. And we’re watching a movie here!”

Victor’s smile stayed in place, even when all eyes turned back to the screen. Almost all. Yuuri, watching Victor, was dying to know what he was really thinking.

_[Pooja agrees to marry another man. There is an engagement party, and a lavish sangeet on the night before the double wedding, a big musical party with singing and dancing, and a medley of different songs from past and present.]_

“I know that song!” Victor leaned forward in his seat suddenly, arms cradled around the dogs protectively once more so he wouldn’t accidentally throw them off his lap.

Four heads turned towards him. “You do?” Yuuri asked.

Victor nodded. “My grandmother used to listen to it. There was a Bollywood movie that was huge in the Soviet area, sometime in the 70s perhaps? Later when there was home video she would watch the tape over and over again, and I had to watch it with her when I spent my summer holidays with her. I think she fancied the actor when she was young. She would always say how handsome he was.”

“I didn’t know Indian movies were a thing in Russia,” Guang Hong said, surprised.

“Apparently so.” Leo had reached for his phone and started looking things up, and he glanced up briefly in between reading from the screen. “This song is from a Rishi Kapoor movie called ‘Bobby’ and would you look at that. Rishi Kapoor was hailed a superstar in the Soviet Union, and that movie was a huge hit. Like ‚top 20 Soviet era box office hits of all time‘ huge.”

“Wow.” Victor shook his bangs from his face. “I thought it was just a rare, dear quirk of my _babushka_.”

“Pause the movie!” Phichit commanded. “Methinks we have a situation here.”

He turned towards Victor, eyes narrowed. “ _You!_ Are not a Bollywood virgin!”

“I’m very sorry, I didn’t know.” Victor threw his arms up in defence, smile wide on his face.

Phichit moved his killer gaze to Yuuri. “Yuuri, did you just lure the man here with the mention of puppies?”

Yuuri laughed and threw a sofa cushion at Phichit. “For crying out loud, Peach! Continue the movie!”

Phichit huffed dramatically, but did as he was told and turned back towards the screen, hugging the cushion close to himself.

“Oh Yuuri, it’s your song!” Guang Hong exclaimed a couple of medley songs later and leaned forward.

_[The music stops briefly and a thunderstorm is heard. A sudden downpour is drenching the wedding guests. Raj grabs Pooja by her wrist and pulls her close to him. She goes reluctantly, but eventually giving in to the immense longing between two people deeply in love. She tries once again to escape but he pulls her back, and the yearning and love between them is in every look, every gesture for a moment as they cannot hide their feelings any longer. The song that plays is slower, a man singing about how something happened to him when this woman came into his life and he doesn’t know what to do. It’s like a confession. For one painful moment it looks as though they’re coming clean about their charade in front of the whole wedding party and their respective betrothed ones. The song changes again to a happier one and Raj starts a cheerful dance to show everyone that he wasn’t serious a moment ago.]_

“What’s Yuuri’s song?” Victor asked curiously. He turned to Yuuri, who looked shy.

“That song they just played there is from one of our favourite movies,“ Phichit looked up at Victor. „That scene, them getting soaked in the rain, is also a take on that movie, where the couple has a really famous scene of dancing in the rain.”

“It’s Yuuri’s favourite scene,” Leo added. “We have to rewind it every single time and watch it several times over.”

“Really?” Victor looked at Yuuri again.

“It’s very romantic,” Yuuri mumbled, his cheeks very pink.

“Now that you mention it, we haven’t watched ‘Kuch Kuch Hota Hai’ for a while yet,” Phichit threw in.

“That’s because you wanted to watch every other Rani movie first before we watch that again!” Leo reminded him.

“Ah, but we kind of have an educational mandate now.” Phichit nodded in Victor’s direction. “He may not be a Bollywood virgin but he clearly doesn’t know all the great ones, and I don’t know if I will be able to sleep at night knowing that he has never seen ‘Kuch Kuch Hota Hai’! It’s like… if there is one Bollywood movie you need to watch in your life, you must watch that one!”

“We should remedy that situation and watch it next time,” Guang Hong suggested, smiling.

For a moment there was silence, except for the movie playing that nobody was watching anymore.

“So…” Victor finally said, looking back and forth between them, a timid smile playing around his lips. “There’ll be a next time?”

“I have no objections.” Leo grinned. “I want to see what happens when _you_ get drunk, Victor. I’m sure you can borrow a sari from one of our dancing queens here.”

“I have a light blue one that would look great with your eyes.” Guang Hong winked at Victor. “You have a lot to catch up on.”

“I’m going to compile a list of ‘Must see’ movies!” Phichit was almost rubbing his hands with excitement.

“Yuuri?” Victor asked, and Yuuri felt all eyes on him.

He made out to think very carefully about the matter, but finally he smirked at Victor. “How would I possibly work with someone whose Bollywood knowledge is at the level of some 1970s Rishi Kapoor movie? I couldn’t live with myself and would feel sorry for you every day.” His eyes sparkled with mischief.

Victor laughed. He seemed genuinely pleased.

“Oh no! We missed the end!” Phichit stared at the TV screen in horror, where the credits already played. He jumped back to the medley, while Guang Hong, in expert anticipation of the only outcome they could imagine, already passed the tissue box around.

Yuuri suddenly remembered something and leaned over towards Victor, tapping his arm.

“What about your Friday night dinners with Yakov and Lilia?” he asked lowly when Victor leaned in.

“I’ll figure something out.” Victor smiled his heart-shaped smile.

It was close to midnight by the time the food was finished and everyone had helped tidy up and got ready to leave, saying their goodbyes at Yuuri’s door. Phichit disappeared next door still humming a song from the movie. Leo and Guang Hong sleepily made their way to the apartment down the hall with Shi in Leo’s arm. Their door closed quietly on them. Victor had called himself a taxi and was going to meet it downstairs.

“Thank you for inviting me over. I had a wonderful time,” he said as he shrugged his suit jacket back on.

Yuuri offered to see him out of the building, but Victor shook his head.

“You will do no such thing. I’ll find my way out and into the taxi. Go to bed, Yuuri. It was a long week.” He stepped out into the hall and turned to Yuuri again with a smile. “It was fun though.”

Yuuri laughed faintly, leaning on the doorframe with one hand. “It was.” And it had been.

“I’ll see you on Monday. I look forward to what you’ll be wearing.” Victor winked.

“Oh, you’re in for a great surprise,” Yuuri deadpanned.

“Goodnight, Yuuri.” Victor turned to go, but then paused and turned around again. “Yuuri?”

“Mhm?”

Something flared up in those blue eyes, something mischievous Yuuri had come face to face with too many times throughout the week to not feel a little cautious now.

“Please tell me you plan on keeping those badass Gothic heels.”

“Goodnight, Victor.” Yuuri closed the door in his face. He could hear Victor laughing all the way to the lift.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you ever feel low, look up pictures of Japanese Spitz puppies. They're so wholesome. <3
> 
> This chapter includes the sentence that is the bane of my working life: "There's nobody at reception..." Because it's usually followed by: " _You_ need to cover reception!" :D
> 
> The translation of the Japanese spoken during the video call is basically just formal introductions:
> 
> "Good evening, I am Yuuri Katsuki of this company, nice to meet you." - "Good evening, Mr. Katsuki, I'm Kenjirou Minami of that company, nice to meet you too (as a standard reply to 'hajimemashite')." I checked with a Japanese native speaker before putting that in. ;)


	3. Of Hidden Truths and Talents

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor spends more time with Yuuri and his friends and gets wrecked (not like that!) as the boys take him on a wild ride on Bollywood night. We see old and new friendships and - we finally meet The Sweater.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can I just say right here and now that I _love_ every single reader of this fic and am so grateful for every comment and kudos and bookmark! I was so worried about a lot of stuff I put in here and I wasn't sure anyone was going to read this fic at all. Thank you all so much! This keeps me going! 💖💞
> 
> Fear not, I'm not going to go into so much detail about every movie I make them watch as I do in this chapter, but this one is kind of a little important for our boys. ;)
> 
> Another Yuri comes on the scene in this chapter, and to be honest, I don't want to call him Yurio because I don't see where this would come from in this setting. However, I'll be trying to set him apart as much as possible from _our_ Yuuri whenever they are in the same scene together, and since this chapter is Victor's POV, I'll go with Yura here, which is what a fellow Russian would refer to him as.
> 
> Warning: if you're anything like me, this chapter might make you hungry!  
> Formatting likes to mess with me, I hope it's not too inconsistent; I'm trying hard not to let it win.  
>    
> Now. Who's ready for some Victor POV?

**3 – Of Hidden Truths and Talents**   
  


_I’m so sorry, hun, I won’t be able to call tonight, the jet lag is terrible. Talk to you tomorrow? x_

Victor stared at the text for the longest time. Part of him felt tempted to point out that the jet lag was usually only terrible when one flew the other direction, but he swallowed down the sentiment. The message had certainly dampened his mood when it came in, the assigned ringtone jolting him roughly from the pleasant memories of the previous evening. It had felt like a warm blanket hugging him, the memories of spending such an unexpectedly fun evening with really delightful colleagues when he’d believed he’d be reading alone on his couch with a gin tonic in his hand and not even Makkachin to cuddle up to because she was still resting after the scare they’d had.

At long last he heaved a sigh and sent off a very understanding reply stating to take all the time to recover and call whenever it was suitable. Relief washed over him when he slipped the phone back in his pocket. The day stretched ahead of him now, and he had just closed his eyes, holding his face into the Saturday morning spring sun, when he heard the very familiar deep bark close to his right and felt the commotion that was fifty pounds of poodle taking off. His eyes shot open and he jumped up. 

“Makka!” he yelled but she had bolted. “For fuck’s sake…”

Cursing under his breath, he set off after her across the park.

“Oh shit!” He moved faster when he saw her enthusiastically playing around with another poodle not even half her size. He knew her size could be intimidating to smaller dogs and their owners, especially when she got enthusiastic. As he got closer, something about the chocolate coloured fur ball seemed familiar.

“Makkachin!” he called her again, trying to sound as stern as he possibly could. “I swear to god the next time you take off like that you’re never allowed off your leash again, and I won’t care how sick you’ve been!”

At least she stopped goofing around and sat back on her hind legs, looking in his direction with what he could have sworn was a cheeky grin. The smaller poodle however became attentive at the sound of his voice. He looked in Victor’s direction for a moment and suddenly charged towards him.

Laughing, Victor went down on one knee and reached out both arms.

“Hello there!” He chuckled as he picked the dog up and immediately got his face licked. “If I didn’t know you lived almost at the other end of the city I’d say you’re…”

“Vicchan!!!” A voice thundered close by, and Victor let the small dog go when he began wriggling in his arms eager to run off. “What have I told you about running away!”

Victor rose, his smile unbelievably wide as he watched Yuuri, who hadn’t noticed him yet because he was being overrun by two poodles, Makkachin nearly bowling him over as she decided she had been good for long enough and joined her small new friend in enthusiastically greeting his master. He looked astonishingly down to earth in black workout clothes with a blue stripe down the sides of the pants and the jacket sleeves. The jacket was unzipped, revealing a light blue T-shirt underneath. His hair looked exceedingly messy, his glasses sat crookedly on his nose.

Yuuri was laughing, cooing at Makkachin and petting her silver-beige fur with both hands in her immaculately trimmed curls. Finally he looked up.

“I’m sorry, my dog just took off and… Victor?” He pushed his glasses up straight on his nose.

“Good morning, Yuuri.” Victor beamed at him. “I almost didn’t recognise you, you’re so… underdressed.” He winked.

“Well, I didn’t recognise you out of your fancy three-piece suits either.” Yuuri grinned and motioned at him. Victor had just put on the first long-sleeved black T-shirt and grey jogging pants he had found this morning, eager to take Makka out since she seemed better.

“I’ve never seen you in this park before,” Victor said as he stepped closer. “Isn’t it quite a long way away from your apartment?”

Yuuri nodded. “I have no time during the week but I try to take Vicchan here on weekend mornings when we go out on our run. We like to run until we’re here and then spend some time just… hanging out. Today he escaped me when we arrived here though. I thought he’d be exhausted, but then what do I know.” He glared down at Vicchan, who seemed unimpressed.

“So...” Yuuri motioned towards Makka. “This is yours?”

“This is my Makkachin, yes.” Victor beamed proudly. Having heard her name, Makka came over to nudge him, and he bent down to nuzzle her head before he looked up at Yuuri again.

“We live just around the corner, though usually we come here much earlier in the morning. Maybe we always missed each other? It’s just that Makka ate something she wasn’t supposed to this week and had an unexpected late night stint with the vet, so I let her sleep as much as she needed.”

Victor sat down on a nearby bench and wrapped his arms around Makka.

“You gave Papa a scare this week, didn’t you?” he cooed and rubbed her behind her ears. She gave a short bark, and he smiled. “I know. You’re my favourite girl, aren’t you? Yes, you are. _Yes_ , you _are_!”

When Victor looked up, he found Yuuri staring at him with an unreadable expression on his face.

“Papa.” Yuuri cocked one eyebrow.

Victor felt himself blushing. “Well…” He shrugged, at a loss for words.

“So two days ago when you got that call…” Yuuri fell silent again.

Victor nodded. “That was my dog sitter, who looks after Makka when I’m at work. I’d asked her to give me updates.”

Yuuri seemed flustered, scratching the back of his head. “I thought you…” Again, he didn’t finish what he’d been going to say.

“What did you think, Yuuri?”

“No, I just assumed… it was a… _child_ you were talking to,” Yuuri mumbled.

“Oh.” Victor fell silent for a moment. “You don’t… consider yourself Vicchan’s papa?” Even as he said it, he felt exceedingly sheepish.

“No.” Yuuri laughed. “Vicchan is my buddy.” He looked down at the poodle sitting attentively by his feet now. “Aren’t you? My best friend.”

“I thought Phichit was your best friend.”

“Oh, we just never tell Phichit.” He gave Victor a pointed look.

“My lips are sealed,” Victor grinned.

“I was just about to get coffee from that place right outside the gates when Vicchan bolted off.” Yuuri was staring at his shoes for a moment before he looked up again. “Do you want to join me?”

“I’d love to.” He really did. Then he frowned. “Do they allow dogs though?”

“Why don’t I get coffee and you wait here...” Yuuri grinned mischievously, his eyes sparkling. “With the kids.”

Victor was sure he could feel the tips of his ears glowing pink. “That would be lovely, Yuuri.”

He could have sworn he saw Yuuri’s shoulders heaving with laughter as he walked away.

Victor played a half-hearted game of fetch with both dogs though more than that he just sneaked in cuddles and took countless pictures of them as they played together. They hit it off like a house on fire, and it made his heart sing.

When Yuuri returned with two large to-go cups of coffee and two white chocolate and raspberry muffins, Vicchan got excited.

“Sorry...” Yuuri handed Victor the coffee and placed the paper bag with the muffins on the bench Victor had sat down on. “He knows he gets a treat too when I do.”

He took a small bag of dog biscuits from the pocket of his running jacket and opened it. Vicchan started to jump up and down eagerly, and Yuuri laughed as he teased him, holding the treat high above his head as Vicchan tried to catch it by jumping up. Eager to know what the fuss was all about, Makka came over, too, wanting to play along.

„Is she allowed treats?“ Yuuri asked. Victor nodded, and a strange warmth spread throughout his chest as he watched Yuuri turn it into a game, playing both the dogs and laughing softly, until he finally let them each have a dog biscuit and looked on gently for a moment when they sat by their feet, happily crunching away.

“She’s beautiful.” Yuuri’s face was flushed when he finally sat down beside Victor and accepted the coffee Victor handed him.

“She is.” Victor followed his gaze, loving how adoringly Yuuri looked at his dog. He knew of course that Makka was the most beautiful, but having someone else show his precious girl love always made him giddy with affection.

“So Yuuri…” Victor took a sip of coffee. “What new fashion extravaganza can I look forward to on Monday?”

Yuuri turned his head to look at him, then looked straight ahead again. “I suppose I can tell you now…” He drank some coffee as if trying to gather his thoughts. “It was a bet.”

“A bet?” The thought of his own bet with Chris reared its ugly head but Victor fought it down.

Beside him, Yuuri nodded. “Phichit and I were out drinking and I let him coax me into a bet about who could drink the most Tequila shots. I lost, and he got to pick my outfits for one week. Work week, that is.”

Victor watched his profile for a long moment, the faint blush covering Yuuri’s nose and cheeks.

“Why didn’t you just say it was a bet?” he finally asked.

Yuuri looked at him now. “That was part of it. I wasn’t allowed to say it was a bet but had to come up with an excuse for the outfit instead.”

“Wow. No wonder you looked so uncomfortable.”

“I didn’t really mind the clothes… they’re just clothes, after all. Except for the kilt on Wednesday, perhaps. I didn’t like the way Chris or the mail man eyed me in that. But most of all I was really tense and anxious all the time that any moment I would be called out. I couldn’t stop thinking about what my parents would say if they knew what I showed up to work in. In Japan this would be regarded as highly disrespectful, it totally goes against the grain of Japanese work ethics. I was probably looking uncomfortable because I was so worried all the time that any moment I would get a warning from HR about dressing appropriately.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Victor said, suddenly feeling overcome with the wish to touch Yuuri, give him a reassuring pat on the shoulder, if not a hug.

“It’s not your fault.” Yuuri shrugged and looked at the dogs to their feet.

“Still. I don’t like the thought of anyone in my company being uncomfortable.”

“It’s done, and I live to tell the tale.” Yuuri tried a smile but it looked mechanic. “I’m still sure Phichit must have tipped them off, there is no way I would have gotten away with it without a warning otherwise.”

“Mhm,” Victor hummed. “Him or… someone.”

Yuuri’s eyes widened as his head swung round.

Victor smiled, feeling a little caught out on his end now.

“I had this weird hunch that something was… off,” he tried to explain. “You’ve always dressed properly to work. Even when it was a little more casual it was never so outrageous. And, yeah. HR did call, but I managed to convince them to give it a couple of days, see if this was a momentary slip. I would have needed to do something next week, probably, or at least try to get the truth out of you. It just didn’t seem like you. I couldn’t shake the feeling that someone maybe made you do it.”

Side-eying Yuuri, he could see that his ears were glowing as pink as his face.

“Why didn’t you just stop wearing the outfits?” Victor took another sip of coffee. “Surely you proved your point the first two days. You were really uncomfortable in that kilt, weren’t you? I sent Phichit away because I had the feeling that you were hiding up there on the roof and didn’t want to see him.”

Yuuri looked at him again, eyes eager. “Betting debts are bets of honour. I hate losing, but I also hate chickening out and not holding up my end of a bargain.”

“Debts of honour? Is that so?” Victor said, thoughtful. The fell silent for a while, eating muffins and drinking coffee, watching the dogs who lay side by side like siblings that had just happened to come out in different sizes.

“You’re not smoking.” Yuuri’s words came unexpected.

Victor frowned, and Yuuri turned his head to look at him.

“Right now. You’re not smoking. Doesn’t coffee involve a cigarette break for you?”

“Wow… you’re perceptive.” Victor smiled. Shook his head. “I’ve been trying to quit forever. Strangely enough I never feel the need outside the office. Maybe at a party or in a club when I can be persuaded to go to any, but… somehow it’s something I’ve only ever done with Chris around. Every time we light up we talk about quitting but then it’s like we slip back into familiar motions.” He crinkled his brow. “This sounded weird.”

“Perhaps you could find a healthier pastime to share with Chris.” Yuuri’s eyebrows were raised.

“Not a fan of smoking, are you, Yuuri?” Victor found he thought Yuuri’s irritated face was adorable.

“I’ve always thought it was a disgusting habit. My sister has been smoking since she was a teenager. When she started seeing boys who also smoked I would tease them and say stuff like: Have fun kissing an ashtray! They always just laughed at me.”

Victor tried. He really did. He worried his lips between his teeth for the longest time and concentrated on the dogs, on the sway of the leaves in the spring sun, on an old couple sharing a sandwich on a bench further away, on the children playing on the swings across the green. But he knew he wouldn’t be able to hold in the words and finally caved.

“Have you ever kissed someone who smokes, Yuuri?”

“Huh???” Yuuri’s head whipped round towards him, and Victor tried very hard not to smile but sure enough, there was the blush on Yuuri’s face he had secretly been hoping for.

“Why would I do that! That’s gross!” Yuuri huffed and jumped up. “Let’s give the dogs some more exercise.”

Victor was laughing some more as he rose from the bench. Yuuri was irritated at his laughter some more as he started throwing a stick for the dogs. They let the dogs romp around and Yuuri’s irritation wore off, which made Victor glad. When Yuuri said it was time to go home because he had chores waiting, it took several attempts to part the dogs from each other, and in the end Yuuri resolutely picked Vicchan up and held him under his arm while Victor clipped Makka’s leash back on and led her towards home.

“Victor!”

He turned around when he heard Yuuri call out.

“Maybe we could arrange playdates… you know, for the _kids_. Seeing as they get on so well.” Yuuri smirked, nodding at Makka and at the squirming poodle under his arm.

“That would be fantastic. Let’s talk about it on Monday at work.” He tightened his hold on Makka’s leash as she thought stopping to walk in this direction meant she could rush off back towards Yuuri and Vicchan.

Yuuri nodded and waved goodbye, then he turned around and headed for the opposite exit of the park.

Victor grinned all the way home.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Monday found them busy with the upcoming visit from the Japanese delegation. An email from Yuuri arrived early in the morning with a detailed schedule, updated with the additions Mickey had been able to make over the weekend, and Victor read it over his morning coffee. The delegation would arrive on Wednesday morning and check in at their hotel, then be brought over here to have lunch and a meeting in the conference room and see the head offices. Of course lunch would consist mostly of their own brand products. Later in the afternoon Yuuri would give them a guided city tour, and a table was booked for dinner in one of the most prestigious restaurants in the city, where Chris, Victor and Sara as well as Yakov and Lilia would join them. Yuuri would take them there directly from the tour and stay for dinner in case an interpreter was needed.

On Thursday Yūko would accompany them into the countryside where they would have their desired meeting with the milk suppliers and the cows, sample cheese and get some Heidi feeling in the fields and meadows. Victor laughed when he read Yuuri’s note in parenthesis:

_(possibly help milking cows and goats if owners and/or cows and goats are up for it._ **_Yūko-san - please make sure to warn of health risks if anyone really wants to drink raw, unpasteurised milk like Heidi does!!!!!_ ** _)_

On Friday Victor and Yuuri were to take them to visit the factory where they produced their chocolates and chocolate spread, cold lunch would be provided on site, until they returned to the city and checked out of their hotel and Yuuri and Chris saw them off at the airport. Sara and Yūko would accompany them to Milan to make sure they got there without any problems.

Victor shot forward in his chair and nearly spluttered coffee all over his desk when he saw what Mickey had been able to cook up over the weekend.

Guided city tour on Saturday, including being inside and on the roof of the Duomo, seeing Leonardo’s ‚Last Supper‘ and attending one of Milan’s famous _aperitivo_ before seeing an opera at the Scala in the evening. Then on Sunday they would conclude their visit with a wine tasting and outlet shopping in Franciacorta and fly back to Japan from Milan.

“Mickey, you fantastic sly bastard!” Victor muttered and shook his head at the screen. All Milan activities had Crispino & Giacometti products strewn in, too. They would be served at the _aperitivo_ and at the wine tasting, including their own brand of wine, and of course the outlet shopping centre had one of their larger stores in Italy outside of Milan. There would be no way they would go home without some kind of business.

Across the hall, the door to Chris’ office was flung open.

“Victor!!!”

Chris came rushing out and made straight for Victor’s office.

“What the fuck is this?!” He threw a pack of nicotine patches on Victor’s desk. “Where are my cigarettes???”

Victor smiled up at him. “Smoking is a disgusting habit, Chris. We’ve always wanted to quit. Why not start right now?”

Chris was staring at him like he had lost his mind. He seemed relieved when Victor pulled open a drawer in his desk and took out a small square pack. When Victor tossed it at him, he caught it instinctively without looking at it and made a beeline for his office. Victor watched after him, eyes on Chris’ door, counted slowly in his head, one, two—

The door flew open.

“This is _candy_ , Victor!” Chris yelled from his door.

“Yes. Your favourite too, Chris.” Victor laughed, and laughed louder when Chris slammed his door shut so hard it had the windows singing. Across the hall he saw Yuuri trying very unsuccessfully to hide his glee behind his computer screen.

Yūko Nishigori showed up with a shy bow on the top floor after lunch on Monday, and Victor glanced up time and again from his computer screen to where she sat with “Yuuri-kun” in the small seating area outside Chris’ office and they talked over the upcoming few days in Japanese. When he got up to get himself another cup of coffee from the small kitchen he stopped to say hello. He had to fend off a flood of apologies about the posting of the video before they were able to talk about the delegation.

“I hope Takeshi will be able to spare you over the weekend?” Victor said on his way back from the kitchen, mug of steaming coffee in hand.

“Oh.” Yūko giggled. “Takeshi said I have to go by all means if I get the chance to fly to Milan on business expenses.” Her hand flew up to her mouth when she realised what she had just said to her boss.

“He’s right,” Victor replied cheerfully and raised one hand to stop another apology coming forth. “We really appreciate you doing this, we were unable find a Japanese interpreter at such short notice.”

Yūko blushed, possibly from embarrassment as much as from excitement. „Please forgive me, I’m very nervous, Victor. I’ve never been on a business trip abroad before, and have not stayed anywhere overnight since we had the girls, so this is a little nerve-wrecking for me. I haven’t left the girls for so long since they were born either, but I’m very lucky with Takeshi. I don’t know if many fathers would want to be left alone with six-year-old triplets, but Takeshi just said of course I should go, he will handle the girls. They’ll probably live on frozen pizzas and McDonald’s all weekend, but at least they’ll be happy.“

“And _you’ll_ be enjoying Milan.” Victor winked at her and excused himself to get back to work. 

“Have you been to Milan, Yuuri-kun?” he heard her ask in English when he stepped back into his office.

“No, unfortunately not,” Yuuri replied politely.

Victor sat down at his desk, finger poised on his lips, thinking.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

On Tuesday morning Victor had an invitation for an appointment in his email inbox which Yuuri had sent the previous evening. Yuuri and Yūko were going to brief all participants about the delegation. Victor chuckled quietly to himself as he accepted the appointment and it showed up in his calendar. This could well be the best organised delegation they had ever received.

An hour before lunchtime, Victor opened the connecting door that led from his own office right into the conference room, where Chris, Sara and Yūko were already seated and Yuuri was fussing with the remote control for the beamer. Very efficiently, he had prepared a presentation. Victor found himself smiling. Yuuri looked so serious in his black dress pants and dark blue polo shirt. Victor could see that he had tried to slick back his hair but it had come astray already and some strands were sticking up and others falling into his forehead.

“Thank you for making time for this quick briefing.” Yuuri nodded at everyone. “Yūko-san and I would like to introduce you to Japanese business etiquette.” He called up the first sheet of his presentation on the screen.

“We’ll start with greetings. I know for a fact that Minami-kun is giving them a similar presentation about greetings over here. They will know that instead of bowing, Europeans shake hands. They will probably not initiate a handshake themselves but when you do, they will shake your hand - just don’t be surprised when their handshake is not firm, and please don’t make yours too firm either. Most likely they _will_ bow.”

He gave Victor a pointed look, a reminder of the previous week’s discussions about bowing.

“It will be very polite if you bow too. It doesn’t have to be too low, just a show of politeness and respect. Also, in the worst case you’ll knock heads if you mean well and bow too low.” Yuuri called up the next slide.

“Next up, very important - business cards.”

Chris whistled low through his teeth when he saw just _how_ many points were listed under this. 

“Business cards are usually exchanged during introductions.”

Yuuri reached down to a chair beside him for a card box which he put down on the conference table. “I placed an express order with our printers and had bilingual business cards made that are in English in front and Japanese on the back. I hope that was okay?” He cast Chris a questioning look.

“Of course.” Chris nodded, obviously impressed. Victor discreetly nudged Chris and shot him a dirty grin as if to say that his bet was coming along very nicely.

Looking pleased, Yuuri went through the list.

“When you’re handed a business card, please take it with both hands and a small bow. Read it when you receive it, don’t just put it aside or in your pocket. When you present your own business card, the writing should be facing your guests, so that they can read it. You present your card with both hands too, of course.”

More information followed on business cards lying open on the table during the meeting but not all the way until the end, about taking notes and asking questions during the guests’ presentation to show interest. Mobile phones that could be on the table during meetings but only higher ups were not frowned upon taking calls. And of course phone calls were only ever to be made in a way that others were not disturbed. “No” was never said right out, it had to be rephrased as “This could prove to be difficult.” or “Can we spend a little more time thinking about it?”

Victor was beginning to think he should take notes. This was one hell of a lot of etiquette.

“Okay, so...” Yuuri went on. “Elevators. You will want to do what is considered the polite thing over here and wait for the guests to go in first - however, they will expect Chris as CEO to enter the elevator first. Basically you enter the elevator according to your rank in the company. The person lowest in rank goes last and presses the buttons. That will be me.”

“Or me, when I’m there instead of Yuuri-kun,” Yūko added.

“If they seem a little distant and stiff, don’t be discouraged. That’s normal, they don’t know you. Keeping a physical distance is recommended, at least in the beginning. Japanese people are not very… physical.”

Yuuri blushed a little at those words. Victor hid a smile behind his hands as he feigned a cough.

“Now, Victor.” He sat up straighter when Yuuri addressed him. “There are three women in this delegation. It might be that they fawn over your hair and want to take pictures of and with you. Fair hair and complexion is still considered a beauty ideal in Japan, and your colouring is... unusual, so just be aware that this could happen. They will very probably not stare openly, which is considered rude, but they might cast stolen glances and talk amongst themselves and giggle.”

“How delightful!” Victor seemed happy. Yuuri glared at him.

“Women fawning over you, what else is new?” Sara teased.

“Is it alright if I let them take my picture?” Victor asked Yuuri.

“Perfectly alright if you want to. If you don’t want to, just please remember not to say no outright, try to be diplomatic.”

“Oh, I won’t say no to pictures, Yuuri, so there won’t be a problem.” Victor smiled.

For a moment Yuuri looked at him doubtfully, but then he sighed and gave a faint smile back.

He came to the conclusion of this presentation, the last slide causing everyone to smile and agree that their guests breaking into song should they get drunk at dinner was something they could handle, and singing along with them at least would be a piece of cake.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

On Wednesday Yuuri came to work in suit and tie, and Victor winced. The suit was off the rack, which he could just about tolerate in a young co-worker. But the light blue tie was unacceptable to him. The colour was all wrong and he could spot viscose from a distance. It made him cringe. Victor waited exactly one cup of coffee long before he opened the bottom drawer of his desk. He’d had a special compartment built into this drawer that allowed for the neat storage of up to sixteen ties. Currently ten of the small compartments were in use. He looked across the hall at Yuuri again, back at his tie collection and pondered for a moment over the choice. At last he decided on two darker blue ones, one monochrome, the other interspersed with stripes of a different shade of blue that could match the frame of Yuuri’s glasses.

Yuuri was immersed in a print-out of the delegation schedule when Victor walked up to his desk.

“Don’t you know this off by heart now?” he asked, smiling.

“Morning, Victor.” Yuuri seemed tense when he looked up.

Victor perched on Yuuri’s desk, but Yuuri was already looking back down at the paper in front of him.

Victor waited another moment, then he leaned down, bringing his face close to Yuuri’s.

“Yuuuuri…” he murmured lowly. “What is it with this tie??”

“Huh?” Yuuri’s head shot up, eyes blinking in confusion.

Victor leaned back and held the monochrome tie against Yuuri’s neck, tilted his head and looked at him thoughtfully for a moment. They he did the same with the other tie. His eyes lit up.

“Perfect,” he decided and nodded. “I thought this would go well with your glasses.”

“Victor, what are you doing?” Yuuri heaved an exasperated sigh.

“Yuuri, stand up, please.” Victor got up from the edge of Yuuri’s desk and walked around it.

“I really don’t have time for this…” Yuuri started but Victor cut him off.

“Up, Yuuri!” He sighed, impatiently.

Yuuri took a deep breath and rose from his seat until he came to stand directly face to face with Victor.

Victor flashed him a smile and without warning loosened the asymmetrical knot of Yuuri’s tie and pulled it off Yuuri’s neck. He discarded it on the desk, not without an offended sneer at the light blue viscose, before he tugged the collar of Yuuri’s shirt up and placed his striped blue tie around it.

“You’re tense,” he remarked. “Nervous because of the delegation?”

“Mhm. I can’t stop thinking about all the things that can go wrong,” Yuuri admitted.

“Don’t.” Victor smiled encouragingly. “You’ve prepared everything so well. This will be the best organised delegation we’ve ever had. If it wasn’t for you we would probably be putting our foot in our mouth all the time.”

His fingers worked with practised ease on the folds and loops as he tied a perfect Windsor knot. Yuuri smelt of a hint of classy cologne, he noticed, something citrusy, and he could feel the warmth coming off his body standing so close. Behind his glasses, Yuuri’s eyes were the most beautiful chocolate pools, although widened in a slightly ‘What the hell are you doing?’ kind of way at this very moment.

“Victor…” Yuuri’s voice was little more than an exasperated reminder to get a move on.

Concentrating on the task at hand Victor pulled carefully on the thin end of the tie and gently pushed the knot from the bottom closer to the collar. He took a step back to get a better look at the finished Windsor knot, then moved in again for some small adjustments and to fold the collar down again. After a little more fussing he was finally happy.

“Much better.” Victor beamed at Yuuri, who slid back into his seat with a muttered “Thank you” and a face like he’d just been run over by a steam train.

Victor took Yuuri’s offending tie from the desk. “Can I burn this for you?”

“No!” Yuuri rolled his eyes and yanked his tie from Victor’s hand, but the corners of his mouth were twitching with a repressed smile.

“Yuuri!” Victor placed his hands in his hips. “As soon as the delegation is gone we will go shopping!”

With that he turned to walk back to his office. He was just past the reception desk when he heard Yuuri’s voice behind him.

“Is that a promise or a threat?”

Grinning, Victor sat back down at his desk. He put the monochrome blue tie neatly back in the drawer and went back to the reports he needed to go through, casting an encouraging smile across the hall towards Yuuri whenever their eyes met. Hoping that Yuuri would stop fretting over the delegation everyone else knew he had done a perfect job of preparing for.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

On Thursday night Victor found himself scrolling through several photos in his phone’s inbox and the message that came with them:

_I know I was going to call you tonight, but look what they’ve prepared for me especially! They’re being so kind to me, I think it would be rude to absent myself from lunch for a phone call...? Speak to you at the weekend, definitely! Promise!! x_

He looked through the photos again. A huge table was loaded with so much food he could almost hear the wood groaning in his mind under the weight. He saw stacks of pancakes that would feed an army, glasses of golden maple syrup, a casserole that held what looked like fries and cheese topped with gravy, several meat pies, smoked meat, assorted cheese and fruit and bread, and a variety of puddings that all looked like they were craving to be drizzled in maple syrup. From what he could see of the house in the background, he was reminded of a blend of bygone French opulence and cosy family life.

Victor sighed. After some consideration, he opened his email on his phone and sent off two enquiries about appointments he’d been putting off for far too long, like that would make amends for phone calls that didn’t happen.

For a moment Victor thought about calling Chris and taking him up on that offer of a private pool tournament after all. Chris wouldn’t mind if he’d changed his mind after initially turning him down, but then he found he couldn’t be bothered to leave the house again. He spent the evening reading in bed, with Makkachin lying across his legs and a plate of his favourite pizza rolls from Celestino’s by his bedside.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Friday evening found Victor outside Yuuri’s door with Makkachin on a leash and a shopping bag holding Indian beer as well as extra papadums and fresh coriander. Yuuri had told him to go ahead to his place already while he still needed to see the Japanese guests off at the airport, and by all means to bring Makkachin.

Victor rang the bell and Makka barked in response to the barking that came from the other side of the door.

“Now behave yourself, darling girl, we’re visiting,” he told her with a fond smile.

The door swung open, revealing Guang Hong. “Hi Victor. And you must be Makkachin!”

A similar scenario as the previous Friday ensued, involving three dogs this time and Guang Hong on the floor, and Victor alternating between profusely apologizing to Guang Hong and scolding Makka for bringing him to fall with her enthusiasm. Not that Guang Hong seemed to mind, he was just laughing lying flat on his back covered by a huge poodle licking his face.

A short time later all three dogs had calmed down enough that they settled on Vicchan’s favourite blanket in one corner of the living room, while Victor found himself sitting at a kitchen table covered in plates and bowls of ingredients and a cup of tea in front of him. Victor took a sip from the milky, spiced Chai latte and looked around the table curiously. Several small balls of dough were resting in a bowl right in front of him, next to a mixture of grated cauliflower, spices and fresh herbs that smelt absolutely mouthwatering already.

Smalltalk moved from the latest office gossip to the Japanese delegation and a fashion project Guang Hong was currently working on and wanted to rope Leo in for, who steadfastly refused.

“So how did you two actually meet?” Victor asked. He’d known Leo for years but was still surprised to find that his head of IT had been dating the guy who sometimes did freelance press work for them for more than two years and that they were parents to the loveliest Japanese Spitz. He was also a little jealous to hear that Guang Hong worked from home and so looked after Vicchan while Yuuri was at work. Being surrounded by dogs all day while working sounded like living the dream.

Leo coughed pointedly into his hand.

“Work,” Guang Hong said diplomatically.

Leo scratched the back of his head, thinking of ways to say something without saying anything. “There was an... incident. Certain... images had to be drawn from the internet. We needed help.”

“We needed a hacker!” Phichit corrected.

Victor’s eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. “How did that happen in my own company without my knowledge??”

“What happens in the newsroom stays in the newsroom,” Phichit deadpanned.

“Sara has her ways and means.” Leo coughed again. “Just trust me when I say that we were really in dire need of help, and I expected one of those big, heavy-built, smelly nerds I knew from back home in my high school, because that was my idea of a hacker. Then in walked that fluffy, freckled _boy_ , wrapped in so many layers and a pink coat, barely visible under a knitted hat and soooooo much scarf!”

“It was cold,” Guang Hong said in his defense.

Phichit laughed. “He looked like a doll! Like a cuddly stuffed pink penguin with only eyes and nose peeking out. I thought Leo was going to cry. Management was on our backs to get these pictures, and luckily someone knew a guy who knew a guy… We were promised a hacker, and they sent us a penguin!”

“I thought it was a joke.”

“Charming, Leo,” Guang Hong said pointedly to his boyfriend, before he grinned into his tea.

“And then he threw off all the pink and white fluff, set down at the desk and started typing like the devil, barking out orders and curses that had even me blushing.” Phichit was leaning halfway on the table because he was getting so excited sharing this story.

“It was glorious! The screen was lighting up his face and he looked like a gorgeous demon with freckles, totally loving what he was doing, and Leo…”

“That’s enough, thank you, Phichit!” Leo cut in.

_Leo popped a boner!_ Phichit mouthed at Victor.

Victor snorted with laughter.

“I’ve never been so embarrassed in my life, okay?” Leo snapped. “I bolted out of there like lightning so that he wouldn’t notice.”

“I noticed.” Guang Hong smirked at Victor over the brim of his mug.

Victor rested his chin in his hand. He was loving every moment of this. Yuuri’s friends were absolutely delightful. He smiled into his tea mug and felt a weird tug on his heartstrings when Guang Hong rose from the table to get more tea from the pot on the stove, but not before wrapping one arm around Leo’s shoulder from behind and placing a kiss against his temple. Leo smiled and leaned back into his boyfriend, the two of them in a world of their own for a moment.

The sound of a camera shutter made everyone turn to Phichit, who was already typing away on his phone now. “I am so posting this! Hashtag…#couplegoals.” He looked very pleased with himself.

Guang Hong just laughed, while Leo rolled his eyes and pointed at the table. “We should finish preparing the food. Yuuri will be here soon.”

Leo made everyone wash their hands like a strict kindergarten teacher, then when he was back in his seat he reached for a rolling pin and one of the dough balls from the bowls and started rolling it out into a flat disc.

“Can I help?” Victor offered. “What are we making?”

“We’re making the filled flatbread they had in last week’s movie,” Phichit explained. “Can you fill those rolled out circles of dough? When you’ve put the stuffing on, sprinkle some salt and garam masala on top, and then pinch the sides all together like this.”

He took the dough circle from Leo and demonstrated how it needed to be filled, seasoned, and pinched together. “When that’s done, you give it to me because I need to roll it out again into this really flat, filled bread we can fry in the pan.”

Victor nodded and grabbed the next circle Leo had rolled out.

“You’re good!” Phichit said after watching him go about the first couple of parathas and they came out perfect. There were no tears or even hints of tears visible in the thinly rolled out dough, and the amount of filling was always just right, not too much like often happened with the first, or too little with the next for fear of repeating the mistake.

Victor laughed. “I’ve had to help Lilia make _pelmeni_ so many times, I can make filled dough dishes in my sleep.”

“Good! That means next Friday _you_ can make samosas!” Guang Hong announced, not without relief.

“But yours were perfect!” Victor paused folding to look at him in surprise.

“Ah, but making them is a pain in the ass for me. Filling dough and folding it is not _my_ favourite thing to do.” Guang Hong pulled a face. “I mostly make samosas because I want to eat them, too.”

“Now I know why I get homemade wan tan soup only once a year on my birthday!” Leo grinned. Guang Hong gave him a playful slap and started arranging the readily prepared parathas Phichit got done on a plate.

Victor smiled quietly to himself, working away making parathas like he had never done anything else in his life as he realized he was secretly thrilled that he had been asked back yet again for another Bollywood night.

Yuuri arrived with a tired “Tadaima!” and several gift bags on his arm, though his mood lifted instantly when the dogs greeted him by the door. “There’s nothing for you in there I’m afraid,” he laughed when they sniffed the gift bags curiously. “Just gifts for Victor and me and some forgotten umbrellas and cosmetics from the hotel.”

Victor looked up from his phone, where he’d checked an incoming mail from Sara that he only opened to make sure nothing had gone wrong with everyone’s flight to Milan.

“Our new Japanese friends asked Sara to pass on their deepest thanks for the warm welcome they’ve received,” Victor reported and slipped his phone back in his pocket. “They say they’ve never been on a business trip to Europe before that was so perfectly organised.”

The blush that crept into Yuuri’s cheeks at his words was heartwarming. “That was mostly your doing, Yuuri, you really were meticulous,” Victor said and felt tickled when that adorable blush spread even wider.

“Vikutoruu…” Slightly embarrassed, Yuuri drew out the last syllable as he came into the kitchen and handed Victor one of the gift bags. “This is for you. From your very own Japanese fan club.”

Victor laughed. The three ladies in the delegation had been very sweet. He couldn’t understand why his fair hair would make them flail so much, but he had gladly indulged them and let them take as many pictures as they liked. He peeked into the gift bag Yuuri had handed him and saw what looked like a bottle in a very stylish card box box with Japanese writing on it. He had read up on Japanese whisky and felt stunned to receive such an expensive gift.

“I’ll get changed really quickly.” Yuuri headed for his bedroom. “And then I need food and a beer!”

It took Victor a moment to realise he was staring at the door Yuuri had disappeared behind for longer than was necessary. He shook off the thought and picked up some of the food that needed to be carried over to the living room.

Yuuri came back out looking much more relaxed and comfortable in sweatpants and a long-sleeved navy shirt. He looked around to see if there was anything he could still help with. There wasn’t.

Victor spotted two extra tissue boxes on the coffee table between the food and raised one eyebrow at Yuuri in question.

“Trust me, we’ll need them,” Yuuri said and took his seat in the lower sofa corner again while Victor took the armchair. He missed the company of the dogs a little this week, but they looked happy curled up on Vicchan’s blanket with Makka beside them like the big sister they’d never known they wished for.

“I hope you’re ready,” Phichit said with a look back at Victor over his shoulder, remote control in his hand like he was the conductor of all this. “This is the one and only Bollywood movie you’ll ever need in your life.”

Victor chuckled, leaning back in the armchair as comfortably as he could.

_[The movie starts with the usual opening credits. The first scene is a funeral pyre. A young man in mourning white stands beside the pyre with tears in his eyes. In retrospect he is shown with his wife on their wedding day, romancing her, then she is heavily pregnant, bending down to kiss him while he is lying on a bench.]_

“I will never stop raging over this scene!” Phichit vowed and pointed accusingly at the screen. “Why does he get to lie down and she has to stand even though she’s heavily pregnant!”

_[The scene cuts to a hospital, where the man holds his newborn baby. He has a beautiful, healthy daughter but his wife is not well. She has lost a lot of blood during the birth. She knows she is going to die and entrusts her mother-in-law with eight letters to her daughter, one to give to her on each birthday. The man doesn’t want to let her go. Her last request is for him to promise her to name her daughter Anjali.]_

Victor recognised Phichit’s favourite actress from the movie they’d watched the week before, only in this one _her_ name wasTina.

“How stunning she is without make-up,” Phichit gushed. “She dies so beautifully, too.”

“That is an awful thing to say, Peach,” Yuuri remarked and shook his head.

_[This film skips eight years ahead. Anjali is introducing herself in a video she makes modelled on her favourite MTV VJ, whose posters cover her wall. Anjali lives a happy life with her father Rahul and her paternal grandmother, but the absence of a mother is a sore point in her life. Rahul’s mother, too, would like to see him married again, her family feels incomplete to her. In a school competition, where each child picks a random word and has to speak about it for one minute, Anjali picks the word ‘Mum’ and starts crying because she has nothing she could say. Rahul stands up and makes a moving speech about all the things a mother represents and that sadly she is no longer with them but that for all those, she has her Papa.]_

Everyone in the room reaches for the tissues. Only the dogs are unbothered.

_[It’s Anjali’s 8th birthday and she pushes all her presents out of the way unopened because she is looking for the letter - the last of the letters her mother wrote to her before she died. In this letter, her mother tells her the story of herself, her Papa, and - Anjali. A flashback begins that shows Rahul as a college student and his best friend, a tomboy named Anjali who beats him at basketball every day. Rahul is a shameless flirt, and Anjali teases him all the time about “chasing those stupid girls who throw themselves at him.” Rahul tells her all those girls mean nothing to him because he’s waiting for the right one, the one who will make something happen in his heart. While he’s still talking, the scene cuts repeatedly to Tina, the headmaster’s daughter, who’s arriving at college from London for her first day and making all heads turn.]_

“Look at this beautiful young queen!” Phichit inched closer to the screen, mesmerized. Chuckles answered him from all around him, but he didn’t care.

_[Rahul instantly falls in love with Tina. She repeatedly turns him down because she knows what a flirt he is and doesn’t want to make it too easy for him. In English class on the subject of Romeo and Juliet, the teacher asks the class what love is. Rahul replies that to him, love is friendship. Anjali suddenly begins to see him with different eyes. Tina still refuses to wear Rahul’s friendship bracelet. In a competition between different colleges, Rahul and Anjali have to perform for their own college but fail miserably, until Tina shows up and saves the day by playing an electric guitar and starting a song. She raises her wrist to Rahul, to show him that she is finally wearing his friendship bracelet.]_

“Wow, that is…” Victor started but fell silent because for sure something unpleasant would have come out.

“A fucking ugly bracelet, you can say it,” Leo remarked. “We say it all the time, too.”

Victor found the scene with Tina playing the electric guitar utterly ridiculous but he made sure not to let it show as he didn’t want to be kicked out by Phichit for making fun of the queen. He had come to learn fast that ridiculous moments like these and overacted comedy were part of Bollywood. Though when he looked around at the others, he saw that Yuuri, too, was hiding his face half behind a sofa cushion, laughing quietly and rolling his eyes at the screen in a manner that told Victor Yuuri found the scene just as stupid as he did.

_[The theme song depicts the love triangle of the blossoming love between Rahul and Tina, whereas Anjali’s sequences are more like dreams of Rahul falling in love with her.]_

“Phichit, you should have given Yuuri _this_ outfit to wear for your bet!” Victor said suddenly, pointing at the screen where Tina was dancing in a beautiful soft apple green combination of a salwar kameez complete with leggings and a dupatta in the same colour.

He heard Yuuri clear his throat beside him very loudly but Phichit was getting very excited.

“Oh my god, Yuuri, he’s right! Why didn’t I think of that??” He sounded pained.

Victor caught Yuuri’s incredulous glare, but he smiled it off.

_[Anjali thinks she needs to be more girly so that Rahul will see more than a friend in her. She shows up at college one morning wearing what she believes makes her as pretty as the other girls: heavy make-up, and a short skirt and tight top with a long blouse, all in terrible neon pink and orange. She looks ridiculous.]_

“Oh no, darling, no…” Victor sighed the words more than he spoke them. His heart went out to the poor girl on the screen who was of course laughed at by everyone who saw her, including Rahul.

“Asshole!” Guang-Hong commented, heartfelt.

_[It’s Tina who comforts the humiliated Anjali. Anjali is wiping the make-up off her face, crying angry tears. Anjali tells Tina that all she wanted was to look as beautiful as her.]_

“But you _do_ , darling!” Victor shook his head at the screen. “You are just as beautiful as she is.”

“But not _more_!” Phichit pointed out. “Never more beautiful than the queen.”

Yuuri snorted a little with repressed laughter.

_[Rahul joins the two girls and apologises to Anjali for laughing at her like all the other idiots. He tells her she is beautiful and unique and not like the stupid girls he chases, and that she could have any boy she likes. Tina feels she is intruding and wants to leave, but Rahul holds her back. Tina laters confesses to her father that she believes there is a deep love hiding in Rahul and Anjali’s friendship and she doesn’t want to stand in the way of that.]_

Phichit muttered something that sounded suspiciously like “Spoken like a true queen!” and made Victor smirk.

_[Meanwhile Anjali feels brave enough to confess her love to Rahul. When she runs into him, he surprises her by saying “I love you!” For a moment Anjali is so hopeful, until it becomes clear that Rahul is practising to say the words out loud because he wants to confess to Tina. He asks Anjali for her advice as a best friend and she encourages him, while the whole range of her emotion plays across her face. He asks her to act out the moment with her, her being Tina while he tells her he loves her. Anjali replies “I love you too” and assures him that his is what Tina is going to reply. They hug and Rahul runs off, leaving a completely shattered Anjali behind.]_

“Oh!” Victor was this close to clutching his heart over his shirt because he felt it was breaking a little. The song that followed and depicted Anjali’s heartbreak while Rahul and Tina found each other was very sad and very beautiful. The translation of the lyrics in the subtitles did all kinds of things to Victor. A tissue box appeared in front of him and he turned his head to the right to see Yuuri holding it out to him, smiling faintly while being very teary-eyed himself over being so touched by the song. Victor pulled a couple of tissues from the box and gave Yuuri a grateful nod.

_[At the end of the song Anjali leaves college from one day to the next and before the final exams. Rahul and Tina find her at the train station and Rahul is angry because he feels she is selfish and leaving him behind for no reason. Tina on the other hand knows very well that Anjali loves Rahul and is leaving to not stand in the way of their happiness and to protect her own heart. - The flashback ends and we are back in the present, where Little Anjali, Rahul and Tina’s daughter, is finishing reading Tina’s letter. Tina ends her letter by telling her daughter how she never could become Rahul’s best friend and that he needs Anjali. That she always felt that she came between two friends who could have become the love of each other’s life. She asks her daughter to find Anjali and bring her back into her Papa’s life so that both he and Anjali can find happiness and Anjali gets her true love back. An ‘Intermission’ screen shows.]_

“Fuck!” Victor exclaimed. It sounded husky and tear-laced even to himself. “What the fuck are you making me watch here??? This is worse than any horror movie! This _hurts_!”

Phichit’s head swung round. “What’s this, Nikiforov, can’t take the heat?” He looked positively evil.

Victor laughed, a little breathless, and shook his bangs, eyes already back on the screen, eager to know how the story continued.

If someone had asked Victor he would have said that he found the second half of the movie much more exciting, and he knew that from the moment he caught the first glimpse of the former tomboy Anjali who was now transformed into a stunning woman, every trace of the former tomboy gone, dressed and dolled up to her teeth on the night of her engagement.

“Guys, do you remember how many times we did this number in our dancing classes?” Phichit suddenly asked when Anjali’s fiancé was introduced in the picture with a song.

“You say that like you didn’t thoroughly enjoy dancing the part of the fiancé,” Yuuri replied drily.

“Especially that bit where he does that swagger in front of the stairs and then has a row of four girls on each arm and rolls his hips in time with them,” Guang Hong added just as drily. “You wanted to do that again and again in class, claiming you needed more practice when you already did it perfectly.”

“It’s not my fault there were never enough guys in the classes who wanted to do the male parts,” Phichit defended himself. “And _you_ always wanted to be Anjali!” He glared at Yuuri.

Victor had shot up in his seat, finally getting a word in. “You took actual _classes_? When you said dancing I assumed you would just... I don’t know, imitate moves from the films.”

The others looked at each other for a moment. Then they laughed. Out loud.

“Have you _met_ Phichit Chulanont?” Yuuri nearly doubled over in his sofa corner with laughter, hugging the cushion to his chest now. “He wouldn’t shut up until we went to proper Bollywood dancing classes!”

Phichit looked exceedingly proud of himself. “We just meant to try it out for laughs but then it was so much fun, we kept going back. We even did little shows.”

“You _what_?” Victor gaped.

“Yeah. Our teacher would organise those dance performances at local events. Sadly work picked up for all of us and we couldn’t find the time anymore to practise for shows. And then the teacher went back to India and classes were discontinued.” Yuuri looked flushed with excitement.

“Good times,” Phichit reminisced, head leaned back against the couch. “It was brilliant, and great work-out, too. And it does wonders for flexibility. Doesn’t it, Leo?”

Leo muttered a noncommittal “uh-huh” and quickly stuffed half a paratha into his mouth. If Victor hadn’t been able to deduct from that alone just _what_ tricks Guang Hong had picked up from those dance classes, Leo’s acute blush and the expression on Guang Hong’s face were dead give-aways - calculated innocence paired with complete and utter sauciness. Victor thought he understood Leo’s predicament very well. He had seen what those Bollywood actresses were able to do with their hips.

He fell back into the armchair, feeling suddenly very worn out.

_[Grown up Anjali confesses to her mother that she already once loved in her life and this marriage is merely a compromise for her. It is very clear that she never got over Rahul and still loves him, even though they never got back in touch since the day she left college and they said goodbye at that train station. Little Anjali has confided into her grandparents about the request in Tina’s letter and together they hash out a plan to make it come true. They find Anjali and learn that she is going to Simla where she teaches singing and dancing to kids in a summer camp every year. Little Anjali and her grandma set off for Simla against Rahul’s will with a plan to meet Anjali and to lure Rahul there with a pretend illness of Little Anjali, knowing he will come running if she so much as sneezes on his answering machine.]_

Victor took out his phone for a moment to sneakily send off an order for the DVD of this movie.

Makkachin came trotting over at that moment, though strangely enough she didn’t come to him but to Yuuri, leaning in to the cuddle he instantly gave her with a big smile on his face. Makka hopped up on the couch by Yuuri’s command, where it was getting crowded now with her legs and body laying across Leo and Guang Hong’s legs and feet while her head rested on the cushion in Yuuri’s lap. Victor looked at her through narrowed eyes but Makka didn’t seem to notice how miffed he was by her betrayal.

He turned his attention back on the TV screen.

_[Grown-up Anjali says goodnight to the children in the summer camp, including Little Anjali who is clutching a photo of her late mother to her chest. Back in her own tent she watches an MTV show where Little Anjali’s favourite VJ is asking the live audience to send out love messages. Rahul appears, at first only seen from behind because he doesn’t get he’s supposed to face the camera. He wants to reach out to his daughter through her favourite show, claiming she will listen to the VJ rather than to him. The VJ addresses Anjali on camera and tells her to come home soon because she is being missed by her Papa. Grown-up Anjali hears Rahul speak her name again for the first time in years and is shocked to hear that the Anjali he’s referring to his eight-year-old daughter who is currently in some summer camp in Simla. She runs out to Little Anjali’s tent and gently pries the picture frame from the sleeping girl’s hands - and sees Tina.]_

And while Victor flailed a little because this was the crucial moment when grown-up Anjali saw Rahul again and the story of his life since they parted ways fell into painful place for her, Victor also realised that Yuuri Katsuki was a little shit.

“‘Papa _really_ loves you,’” Yuuri repeated the VJ’s words from the screen to Makkachin pointedly, making sure that Victor heard him. Victor turned his head and glared at him. Yuuri didn’t even try to hide his cheeky smirk, no matter how deep he buried his face in Makka’s fur; he was looking Victor straight in the eye and Victor knew then that Yuuri would never let him live this down.

_[Rahul arrives at summer camp and is shocked and moved to tears to find his college best friend Anjali, looking all grown up and stunning now wearing saris. A sad, melancholy version of the theme song plays as they slowly walk towards each other, Anjali looking stunned and overcome with the love and yearning of many years visible on her face.]_

Victor reached blindly for the tissue box he could see Yuuri holding out to him from the corner of his eye.

“Okay, guys.” Phichit turned around. “While all those summer camp shenanigans are going on now, let’s do a quick hair vote. We’re finally an uneven number, there cannot be another draw.”

“What?” Victor asked, having finished blowing his nose very discreetly.

“Anjali’s hair,” Phichit explained. “Which one looks better? Long like this, or short tomboy bob? We’ve never come to an unanimous vote, it’s always two against two.”

“Oh.” Victor had to laugh. Once again he thought how Yuuri’s friends were utterly delightful.

“I’ll stick by my opinion.” Leo sounded unfazed. “Short hair looks better.”

Guang Hong patted his boyfriend’s thigh in a manner of ‘You stick by your opinion but in the end _mine_ will win.’ “Long,” he said, smiling.

“Short.” Phichit turned to Yuuri. “And we know what _you’re_ going to say.”

“Long hair looks better on her,” Yuuri almost huffed as if the whole question was an insult.

Victor felt four pairs of eyes on him then and realised his was the deciding vote. He didn’t have to think about it, it was blatantly obvious.

“Long hair, of course.” He nodded at the screen, where Anjali was currently wearing a black sari, which looked absolutely breathtaking on her, especially together with the long black hair reaching down her back.

“I love that sari,” he heard Yuuri say to his right. “You wouldn’t think black would be a good colour for a sari, but this…” He fell silent, but when Victor looked at him he found Yuuri’s face almost dreamy.

_[Feelings grow between Rahul and Anjali as they spend time together in summer camp. One evening everyone is outside playing a game of charades when a sudden downpour surprises them and Anjali chases all the children into a nearby barn to shelter from the rain. Rahul dances in the rain by himself.]_

The overacted way Rahul shook himself and sent water flying everywhere reminded Victor very much of Makkachin when he had to give her a bath. As he thought it, Makkachin moved on the couch and hopped down to get back with Vicchan and Shi, though not without Yuuri running his hand across her back once more with affection as she left his side.

Victor thought he could suddenly feel Yuuri’s anticipation beside him, and sure enough, Guang Hong said “Brace yourselves, gentlemen, Yuuri’s favourite scene is coming up!” at this very moment.

Victor’s eyes widened and he leaned slightly forward in his seat.

_[Rahul and Anjali have found shelter from the rain in a gazebo. He goes down on one knee and asks her, without words, just motion, to dance. Anjali indicates that there’s no music. He tilts his head as if to listen out and raises one hand, moving his fingers like he’s playing an invisible piano. In one of those irrational, inexplicable Bollywood effects, the movement of his fingers brings forth music, a piano version of the theme song. Anjali is smitten, and, they dance. The screen is momentarily filled with just their hands, one reaching out to dance, the other taking it in acceptance. A next shot shows just the midriffs of their bodies, as Anjali is pulled against Rahul in a dance, her waist hitching into his with a visible jolt, his hand firm on the stretch of bare skin between her sari and the hem of her blouse.]_

“Wow…” Victor breathed, taken in by the piano, the passion. He didn’t think he had ever seen anything like it. Albeit much more explicit, no Western movie he’d seen had ever had held so much eroticism. The sensuality of this dance was incredible. He completely forgot the rest of the plot, even their names, he just saw two people expressing how drawn they felt towards each another in the most sensual way Victor could possibly imagine.

_[Anjali is dipped low and Rahul brings his face close to her neck, mouth and nose on her skin as he moves his face up and breathes her in. He comes to stand behind her and brushes her hair aside while he runs the fingers of his other hand slowly down the side of her face, her throat, her shoulder.]_

Victor could almost feel the shudder that would be running across the skin at such a longing caress.

_[Anjali is trembling, but then she closes her eyes and leans back into Rahul’s touch. She allows the love and longing of so many years to break free in the move of her hand up towards her shoulder, where his hand is now waiting for her touch. Their fingers are searching, hesitating, and finally meet and entwine, and he smiles blissfully to the side like he has found something he has long been searching for. Rahul uses the leverage to spin her round in his arms and pull her against his body. Anjali is like a deer in the headlights, overwhelmed by her own feelings, but when she turns to flee, he holds her back by the end of her sari.]_

The music picked up, and Victor cursed low under his breath because of the way this was filmed, the camera steady on Anjali’s face until Rahul steps out from behind her back holding the sari up in the space between them. The way he looked at her made the breath catch in Victor’s throat; there was _everything_ in this gaze.

_[The moment shatters like lightning tearing up the picture when Anjali’s eyes fall on the engagement ring on her finger and she is overcome by the shock of being so deeply in love with the man in front of her, whose face she is caressing with a hand on which she’s wearing another man’s ring. She runs, and Rahul’s face when he realises that she is going to run from him is absolutely heart-wrenching.]_

Victor still sat stunned when Phichit rewound the scene and they watched it all over again. The romance of it was crushing, and Victor couldn’t avert his eyes the second time either. The complete lack of explicitness made it all the more intimate. All the deep emotion lay in the way they looked at each other, the wonder, the longing, expressed in the way they danced and Anjali stepped closer and caressed Rahul’s face.

“Again,” Yuuri said quietly when they came once more to the bit where Anjali, catching her breath from running away, was leaning breathlessly against a tree in the woods and a firm arm came around her and she sobbed out the love she had been harbouring in her heart for eight long years… only it wasn’t the man she longed for and thought had followed her. It wasn’t Rahul, but her fiancé.

Phichit rewound the movie back to when they found shelter in the gazebo from the rain.

But this time Victor watched Yuuri, who had broken through the spell that the dancing scene had seemingly cast on Victor. With just that one quiet word, “Again”, Victor had felt his attention shift, and he turned just the slightest bit in the armchair so that he could see Yuuri better. Yuuri was holding on tight to the sofa cushion, eyes fixed on the screen. Despite the room being dark except for the flicker of the TV screen and one tall reading lamp on the other end of the sofa, Victor could see the pink flush on Yuuri’s face. He felt like he could even hear the frantic beating of Yuuri’s heart, the faint acceleration of breath, if he just strained his ears enough. The softest, dreamiest expression was on Yuuri’s face. It made Victor’s heart melt.

“Again?” Phichit asked when Anjali was confessing her love again to whom she falsely believed to be Rahul.

Yuuri nodded, and shifted slightly in his seat. Obviously aware of Victor’s eyes on him now, he appeared to be coming out of a daze, and his blush deepened.

“So that’s Yuuri’s scene, is it?” Victor smiled as on the TV screen, Anjali was running backwards into the gazebo and their dance spun out from the end to the beginning until Phichit stopped and the trademark piano theme started to play once more. Victor had meant to be more teasing, but Yuuri’s blush was adorable and he’d seemed so… enchanted, Victor found he didn’t have the heart to tease.

“It is very romantic,” Victor just said softly. “And… sensual.”

“It’s porn, that’s what it is!” Phichit stated. “They’re not allowed to show sex in India so they use symbolism. A woman in a wet sari stands for sex. So this is basically a sex scene… ouch!” The sofa cushion had hit him straight to the side of his head.

“Phichit, I swear to god, if you ruin this scene for me…!” Yuuri glared at him from the sofa corner as he slowly pulled the cushion back against his chest, leaving the threat hanging in the air with manifold meanings and none of them bore well for Phichit.

They watched it one last time and then continued on with the movie. Victor felt the tug on his heartstrings again when Anjali left the summer camp early with her fiancé and a reprise of the sad song was played that had accompanied her heartbreak back at college when she realised she had lost Rahul to Tina.

Victor saw Guang Hong reach for one of the two remaining tissue boxes on the table and hand it to Phichit, who accepted it blindly, reaching up over his shoulder. The last one Guang Hong placed in his lap to share with Leo. Victor felt a light tap against his arm and turned his head to find Yuuri pointing at the tissue box he retrieved earlier and had now placed on the armrest of the sofa between them for the both of them to share.

“It’s downhill from here,” Yuuri told him quietly, visibly moved by the teary farewell scene on screen. “We’ll be crying until the end now.”

And they were. Even though it was a happy ending that reunited the lovers because even the fiancé could see that Anjali loved Rahul and that her love had never been for him, only ever Rahul’s. Phichit’s queen made a fleeting reappearance, visible only to her daughter among the wedding party to indicate to Little Anjali that she had done well and fulfilled her mother’s wish.

“Fucking hell…” Victor muttered and threw himself back in the armchair while the end credits rolled across the TV screen. He felt his whole being still ringing with all the feels from the movie. “That was quite the experience.”

Guang Hong burst out laughing. “You look _wrecked_ , Victor!”

Victor felt all eyes on him again and braved a small smile. His lap was full of used and crumpled tissues.

“I think it’s save to say that you’ve properly had your Bollywood cherry popped tonight.” Phichit looked exceedingly proud of himself. “Last week was mere foreplay.”

“It’s a very nice movie,” Victor said timidly.

“He ordered the DVD on Amazon about halfway in,” Yuuri commented drily. Victor’s head whipped round, and sure enough, there was that mischievous sparkle in Yuuri’s eyes which Victor had come to know as always being there when Yuuri was searching for an answer and planning or exercising some mischief.

“Yuuuuri! So mean!” Victor almost pouted.

Leo stretched his arms over his head and announced that he was hungry.

“Those parathas look good.” Yuuri took one and looked it over carefully. “Did you throw out any failed attempts before I arrived and could scold you for throwing away food?”

“There was no need to. Victor made them. Apparently it’s his secret superpower.” Leo grinned as he pushed Guang Hong very gently off of his lap to get up and head for the bathroom.

Yuuri’s eyes widened. “Really?” He side-eyed Victor sceptically. Victor merely shrugged. Smirked.

Guang Hong said he would heat up the parathas in the microwave and carried the plate over to the kitchen.

“I can’t imagine you in the kitchen at all,” Yuuri confessed to Victor, a slight frown on his forehead.

“Ah, but you didn’t see him earlier with the paratha dough, Yuuri,” Phichit grinned. “He might surprise you yet if you set him to gyoza making.”

“Gyoza?” Now Victor frowned. “You can make that yourself? At home?”

Yuuri looked at him for a long moment, then at Phichit.

“What are we going to do with this man?” he sighed dramatically. “He knows nothing.”

He looked back at Victor. “Are you free on Sunday? And is your car back from inspection?”

“Yes and yes.” Victor nodded, eyes dancing and smile wide on his face as he wondered what Yuuri could be up to. There it was again, that sparkle in Yuuri’s eyes.

“Come by Sunday afternoon,” Yuuri finally told him. “You can drop off Makka with Guang Hong and take me grocery shopping.”

“Okay.” Victor nodded without hesitation.

“And then you can help me make gyoza for Japanese night and show me what you’ve got.”

Victor found he couldn’t stop smiling. Whatever Yuuri meant by that, it sounded fantastic to him.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Victor started laughing the moment the door swung open.

“Yuuri, what are you wearing??” he asked, unable to look away with that uncanny pull the sight of disaster sometimes has on people.

It was the most outrageous sweater Victor had ever seen. Huge and unshapely, it reached almost all the way down to Yuuri’s knees and hung off of him like he might as well hide two more people with him inside of it. It looked hand-made, knitted in several styles though there was no consistency visible as to how or why a certain part had been knitted in this particular way. Each sleeve even had a different pattern. It was not pieced together though, very obviously someone had just tried to knit every pattern known to man into one garment with no rhyme or reason. The colours were also on a whole other level of clashing, yellow and purple and brown and red alternating in thick stripes of undefined and asymmetrical order. One sleeve was completely blue, as if whoever had made this had remembered at the last minute that Yuuri liked blue and had tried to make up for it by knitting one whole blue sleeve.

“Yuuuuuri...” Victor couldn’t help himself. He stepped closer and touched one arm, pulling his hand back when he found the wool just as rough and scratchy as it looked to him.

“I got your memo, but I wasn’t aware that it was also binding for yourself.”

“It isn’t!” Yuuri shot him an irritated look.

Yuuri had sent him a text message earlier before he left the house, saying:

_Don’t wear your best clothes. You’ll stink._

For a moment Victor looked taken aback, then he started laughing all over again.

Yuuri just looked at him with an exasperated frown. “My grandmother knitted this for me,” he said curtly. “It’s my favourite sweater! Can we go now?”

He grabbed his keys and wallet from the sideboard in the hall, slipped his phone into his pocket and his feet into his shoes before he opened the door and looked expectantly at Victor.

“But why, Yuuri? Why???” Victor asked, laughing again as he stepped out into the hallway and turned right away to marvel at Yuuri’s sweater all over again.

Yuuri rolled his eyes and closed the door behind them.

He chased Victor through one Asian supermarket, one butchery, one huge hypermarket, and what felt like twenty different market stalls that all had the same kinds of seasonal fruit and vegetables. Victor couldn’t help his mirth every time he looked at Yuuri. The sweater was outrageous.

Two hours later they got out of Victor’s car again and Yuuri called Leo ahead to just open his apartment door already as they were on their way up.

“So what exactly is Japanese night?” Victor asked as he pushed open the door with his shoulder, balancing the shopping bags in his arms.

“Oh.” Yuuri followed him in and shut the door with his foot. He was equally loaded with groceries. “Every week we take turns in cooking something from home for the others. Phichit cooks Thai, Guang Hong Chinese, Sara Italian, Leo American and, well. Tonight it’s my turn.”

“And how exactly do you cook American?” Victor asked as he followed Yuuri into the kitchen, glad to put down the shopping on the counter.

“Oh, you’d be surprised!” Leo said. “Come join us next time it’s my turn and watch me whip up specialities like cheeseburger without cheese. Or Mac’n’Cheese without cheese and butter.”

He who was currently in the middle of rearranging the living room furniture with Guang Hong and looked up at Victor from the armchair he had just moved to one corner of the room. Some fantasy series was playing on the TV screen, people in very bad wigs talking in Chinese in what looked like a whole world made of snow and ice.

“Three lactose-intolerant Asians,” Yuuri explained, grinning at Victor’s confused frown.

Victor stared at Yuuri in disbelief for a moment. “Okay, now you’re having me on,” he finally told him. “I know I’ve seen you guys eating cheese. You eat pizza at work. And cheesecake!”

“It’s better now.” Yuuri shrugged. “Maybe our bodies adjusted to it, but... it wasn’t always... we don’t talk about that!”

“Okay.” Victor smirked into the groceries he was unpacking.

“ _Never_ , Victor!”

“Okay.” He dove deeper into the paper bag of vegetables he was unpacking, pretending to retrieve some single carrots from the very bottom of it.

“I can _hear_ you smiling!” Yuuri’s voice sounded stern somewhere behind him.

Luckily Leo came into the kitchen at this moment to place a bowl on the counter in which Yuuri normally kept fruit on the coffee table.

“It helps that I’m Mexican-American,” Leo remarked. “Homemade tacos are always a great success.”

“We’ve been trying to rope in Seung-gil for months, because we’re all craving Korean food,” Yuuri added and opened the freezer compartment of his fridge to put in the huge amount of beef he had bought. Before he closed the fridge he took out a rather large bowl and placed it on the kitchen table.

“What’s this?” Victor peered at the bowl, which was almost three quarters full of what looked like a batch of raw minced meat that gave off a delicious smell of ginger, chives, and garlic.

“Your job for today,” Yuuri commented drily and threw a huge lump of gyoza dough wrapped in cling film down on the table like a statement.

Out in the living room Leo was trying to set up a table and chairs he had brought from his own apartment so they could have dinner in Yuuri’s living room. It wasn’t all that easy with a Japanese Spitz running around between his legs and occasionally barking at the TV screen.

“You’re in every way as irritating as your namesake there,” he scolded. “Shi, dammit! Get out of the way, I don’t want to hurt you.” He swung around to Guang Hong with an exasperated “ _Babe!_ ”

Guang Hong laughed but called Shi over to the sofa with one quiet command.

“Don’t swear in front of the children,” he reprimanded Leo.

In the kitchen, Victor’s head jerked up from where he was washing his hands.

“Yuuuuri!” he exclaimed, scandalized. “Is this children thing coming from you??”

“No,” Yuuri grinned. “Apparently you’re not the only doggy papa and _I’m_ the one who has it all wrong, says Guang Hong.”

“Thank you, Guang Hong!” Victor called out and dried his hands.

“Anytime!”

Yuuri set him to work then, showing him how to fill the small circles of dough he rolled out with a little meat filling in the middle and then how to fold them, first in half and then folding pleats at the top. He kept a careful eye on him for the first couple of gyoza, which amused Victor no end, but when Yuuri realised that he could barely keep up with Victor he concentrated on getting that huge amount of dough he had prepared rolled out.

Soon they fell into a fairly quick routine and the platters Yuuri had set out began to fill with gyoza.

Yuuri explained how he was going to make sukiyaki and how his was a little more work than what people normally did at home when they made sukiyaki but how he wanted more of that feeling you got in a restaurant. It would mean frying the meat bit by bit though, so they would need a lot of other stuff to eat too because this way of making sukiyaki meant waiting.

Victor barely noticed time flying by as he helped chopping other ingredients and found himself with what looked like a small cookie cutter Yuuri told him to cut flowers out of carrot slices with. Yuuri himself prepared sauce from sake, mirin, sugar, and soy sauce before he began cutting thinnest slices off the meat he had put in the freezer so that he could cut it thinly more easily.

Once all the preparations were done, Victor was getting exceedingly hungry. Yuuri disappeared to get changed out of his atrocious sweater, much to Victor’s amusement.

“Phichit’s done with his assignment, he’s on the way with Sara and his new intern,” Yuuri said when he came back out of his bedroom. He placed his phone in a corner of the kitchen counter, safely out of danger. “I think his name is also Yuri?”

“Yuri Plisetsky,” Victor nodded. “Yakov and Lilia came back from Russia earlier in the week and brought him with them. They’re friends with his grandfather, who raised Yuri. Yuri wasn’t keen on leaving him but there are really not that many prospects for a future where they live, and his grandfather wants him to learn a proper job. Then again, he’s only sixteen and a bit of an angry kitten, so that cattiness might just be the way he is.”

“Phichit says Yakov wanted him to start his internship in a different department?” Yuuri placed a cup of tea in front of each of them.

“Or three.” Victor rolled his eyes. “I had to talk to HR on Yakov’s behalf because Yuri pretty much hated everything until he found out about the newsroom. Social media seems to be the only thing he’s remotely interested in.”

Yuuri shrugged. “Well... he _is_ sixteen. Though I shudder to think of a world in which Phichit Chulanont of all people has a young person at his disposal to teach him stuff.”

The doorbell rang and Leo went to answer. The atmosphere changed instantly when Phichit walked in and filled the room with his presence. He quickly introduced Yuri, who was the most beautiful grumpy teenager any of them had ever met.

“Wow! I didn’t know the whole street was coming for dinner,” Phichit remarked drily after one glance at the three huge platters full of gyoza sitting on the kitchen table ready to be fried.

“Peach, you know how long it takes until everyone gets served during sukiyaki,“ Yuuri replied patiently. „We need to tide over the waiting time?”

„By making five thousand pieces of gyoza?” Phichit shrugged. “Hey, I’m not complaining.”

Yuuri rolled his eyes.

“Victor Nikiforov, what is this I hear about you’ve been sneakily cuddling up to my boy squad?” Sara Crispino strolled in like the queen bee and looked over at Victor while giving Leo a hug.

“Yuuri!” Victor’s head whipped round. “You never mentioned there could be cuddling involved!” He winked.

“I... _Victor_!” Yuuri flustered and threw Sara a glare for good measure too.

Victor rose from his seat at the kitchen table when Sara came over and pulled her into a hug. “How are you, darling?” Having grown up together, being around Sara always felt a little like home.

“Fine. We just made the cutest video of Yuri for our youtube channel.”

“And it only took us three hundred takes,” Phichit laughed and called out to Yuri the next moment, “What would you like to drink, Tiger?” There was something like a growl that came from the living room, which Phichit took for some sort of approval for he left the kitchen with two bottles of coke.

“So, Yuuri.” Sara nodded in Victor’s direction, who was now drinking his tea leaning against the kitchen counter, before she placed one arm around Yuuri’s shoulder and leaned in confidentially. “Has he been behaving himself? Or gotten touchy-feely?”

“Sara...” Victor started. He felt slight embarrassment tingle in his cheeks.

“Victor, you’ve always been a notorious cuddler.” She grinned at him and turned back to Yuuri.

“No. All good,” Yuuri grinned back at her.

“Sure? None of this?” She moved in very close to Yuuri’s face and gave an uncanny imitation of Victor doing just that, almost purring much like Victor did, “Yuuuuuri, what is this ugly tie I see around your neck?”

Victor started coughing up a mouthful of tea he’d just drunk.

Yuuri tried to remain unmoved. “Can’t say he has.” Victor cast him a grateful smile.

Sara laughed. “I don’t believe you but it’s very cute of you to try.”

“How would you know about the tie anyway?” Yuuri mumbled as he turned towards the kitchen cupboard to get a frying pan.

“Yuuri, you always wear that tie,” Sara replied, non-phased. “It’s legendary.”

She moved over to Victor, running her fingers over the front of his shirt where he’d been trying to mop up the tea he’s spat out with a kitchen towel, leaving damp little spots. A wicked smile spread across Sara’s face.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Victor, did I make you splatter all over yourself?”

“See, who needs enemies when you have friends like this?!” Victor asked Yuuri as if asking for help.

Yuuri cast a glance over at Phichit, who was currently showing Yuri Plisetsky what looked suspiciously like Yuuri’s hentai DVD collection. “I know exactly what you mean,” Yuuri replied. He sounded tired.

Soon they were all seated at the table set up in the living room, passing food and drinks around the table, talking, laughing. A portable cooking top was sitting in the middle of the table, and Victor watched everyone work together with practiced ease at heating oil in a cast sukiyaki pot, melting sugar in it, until the first slices of meat went in and Yuuri drizzled a little sukiyaki sauce over it until it was sizzling and caramelizing. Clearly sukiyaki was a favourite among Yuuri’s friends. The aroma of caramelized meat and vegetables was mouthwatering, and Victor finally understood Yuuri’s memo about not wearing his best clothes because the smell of fried food, as delicious as it was, had them fully enwrapped and would sit heavy in their clothes and hair until washed off.

Victor found himself sitting next to Sara and across from Yuuri. He watched Yuuri preparing food, standing as he was fussing over the meat relentlessly to make sure everyone else was served, until Leo told him to sit the hell down and eat something while Leo took over. There was enough gyoza and edamame and pickled Japanese vegetables to go round so that nobody had to go hungry while waiting for meat, tofu or vegetables to be fried.

There were some gasps and stares around the table when Yuuri dipped his cooked meat into raw egg he had beaten in a small bowl, as was the typical Japanese way of enjoying sukiyaki, reactions reaching from being unfazed (Phichit and Guang Hong) over disgusted (Sara and Leo) to the other Yuri in their midst scrunching his nose and wondering out loud whether raw eggs were safe to eat.

“Don’t worry, Yura,” Victor smiled evilly at him across the table. “I was there when Yuuri bought those eggs from an organic farmer. They were so fresh they were basically still warm.”

Yura gave him a little sneer across the table.

Talk was lively and Victor felt relaxed, enjoying how the dynamics of everyone’s different backgrounds just gelled together. There were Yuuri and his friends of course, their tightly knit group with their unique way of welcoming others in their midst like he had experienced himself and wouldn’t want to miss anymore after not even two weeks. Himself and Sara, who had known each other longer than anyone else and shared a whole lifetime, yet here he was able to see one of his best friends in a whole new light. She was used to being the only girl in a group, Victor knew, and she filled the role like she had always done everything in her life - with confidence and warmth. And Yura of course. The youngest and newest addition, though Victor was fairly certain Yura wasn’t aware yet of himself as an addition. He was still defiant, homesick and angry because he felt that his grandfather had sent him away. He was also very aware of how his English skills that had been top notch in his small Russian hometown were actually lacking now that he was among an international group of people who conversed in English every single day. Victor made a mental note to speak more English with Yura rather than falling back into the familiar Russian when they were alone.

Victor wasn’t even sure Yura was aware of how everyone in this room looked after him, because they were subtle, giving him space to find his place, didn’t force words out of him that he didn’t want to speak, yet picking up on his quirks very quickly. Like the fact that he liked to play around on his phone, not to be rude but because he secretly looked up English words sometimes. Like the fact that he could eat vast amounts that went absolutely contraire to his skinny, long-legged body. Somehow more food always appeared on his plate whenever he had cleared it.

“How did you actually end up knowing these guys?” Victor asked Sara and motioned towards Yuuri and Co. “I thought I knew all your secrets, darling.”

“Oh.” She took a drink from her glass of Japanese beer. “Phichit and Leo took pity on me one very long day of setting up the newsroom, when I had just moved here from Milan and felt miserable. For some reason I hadn’t even thought about that I might feel lonely, or homesick, without any friends.”

“Sara! You had me and Chris here!” Victor exclaimed, but the indignation was mere pretend, and she knew it.

“I meant new friends, the kind that wouldn’t constantly remind me of the colour of my knickers when I was four and doing cartwheels in Chris’ parents’ garden!”

They snickered at each other, hands squeezing affectionately for a moment under the table.

“What colour were those knickers?” Phichit asked across the table, and laughter erupted, even though Victor noticed Phichit flinch and was pretty sure from the way Yuuri raised one eyebrow at his best friend that there had been some kind of kick or nudge of reprimand under the table.

Sara’s phone buzzed with an incoming message and she looked at it quickly, then groaned. “Trust my brother to go on holiday by himself and get mugged on the first day!” She shook her head.

“Mickey okay?” Leo paused his chopsticks halfway to his mouth.

“Yeah. Papa’s already FedEx-ed the emergency credit card to his hotel and he’s still got his work phone. Apparently some local guy witnessed the whole thing and helped him out. They couldn’t get his stuff back but he helped him with his phone to call Papa, cancel all his cards and gave him a ride to the embassy and back to his hotel.”

“Shame he didn’t give him a different kind of ride while he was at it,” Phichit muttered around his mouthful of food. “Might have gotten he stick out of his ass.”

“Phichit!” Yuuri glared at him, appalled, but Sara had dropped her chopsticks, laughing.

“He has a point,” she said, happily.

Eventually all the meat was cooked and Yuuri poured broth and the rest of the sauce into the pan over the remaining ingredients. He added udon, to be cooked in the broth and soak up all the different flavours.

“So what are you having on Russian night?” Yura looked up from his bowl of tofu and vegetables, chopsticks poised in the air as he glanced around the table. “Can I come along again and make my grandpa’s pirozhki?”

An awkward silence fell over the table. Cutlery stopped moving, chopsticks paused halfway to mouths. Phichit raised his sake cup and drank so deliberately slowly that it was almost comical.

“We... um...” Yuuri cleared his throat. “We don’t do Russian night.”

“Why not?” Yura asked and looked around at everyone until his gaze landed once again on Victor, who seemed so comfortable in their midst, like it didn’t make any sense at all that he wouldn’t always be here.

More uncomfortable looks were shared, only Victor seemed unfazed, chin resting on his hand as he smiled wistfully like he couldn’t wait to see how this would unfold.

“We haven’t… I mean… Victor is our boss,” Phichit stuttered.

“Oh _now_ you remember this!” Yuuri shot Phichit an accusing look across the table to remind him of their whispered conversation from the Friday night before. _Don’t think of him as your boss._

Victor leaned back, still smiling. “It’s fine, don’t worry about it. I wasn’t assuming…” He seemed calm, the usual nonchalant smile firmly in place. “It was very kind of Yuuri to invite me along tonight, but really. I didn’t expect this to become a permanent invitation.” He paused, finger placed against his lip for a moment, pondering. “Though technically speaking, apart from Yuuri, none of you is in my department, so… I’m not really your boss.”

Unsure glances were exchanged around the table.

“It’s still a little… weird?” Leo suggested.

“Not any weirder than having Victor join us for Bollywood night though,” Guang Hong said.

Victor beamed at him.

“Of course _you_ got asked back for Bollywood night.” Sara turned to Victor. “You’ve always been into sappy romantic movies! I was only invited once and never asked back because I didn’t cry right or not at all or something. Not that I mind, they’re not really my kind of movies at all.”

“You didn’t not cry, Sara, you laughed!” Phichit accused. “Over the happy ending!”

“Uh-oh, did she dare make fun of the queen?” Victor asked Yuuri, one hand on his heart in mock horror. Yuuri nodded, smiling.

“It was ridiculous!” Sara defended herself, laughing. “They were crying like babies about being reunited when they shouldn’t have been apart in the first place! They left their spouses but instead of telling each other they were finally free for one another they lied and spent three years apart and pining for each other.”

“But Sara, you cry so easily in real life!” Victor said to her, surprised.

“Yeah, because it’s real, not a sappy, unrealistic three-hour movie.”

“Sara Crispino, how are you so unromantic!” Victor shook his head, amused.

She shrugged. “They should have been honest with each other. I didn’t like the pining. I think if you love someone you should go for it, not wait around and suffer.” She drank a healthy gulp of beer and set her glass down loudly as if to emphasize her point.

“Anyway, about Russian night.” Sara looked around the table. “I’m your boss, too. And I’m always here, and we’re doing Italian night.”

Six pairs of eyes mustered her for a small eternity, until Phichit finally offered, “That’s… different.”

“Not really,” Victor grinned. “Sara is the daughter of one of the original company founders. That puts her on the same level as Chris, who is _my_ boss, actually.”

“What???” Phichit asked. He was beginning to lose the plot.

“I’m head of internal and external communication, so that makes me the boss of both you and you.” She looked at Leo and Phichit as she spoke. “Direct superior. You just tend to forget because I’m cute and let you use your phones for private shit at work.”

“Really?” Yura sat up, looking hopeful. “We’re allowed to do that?”

“Not you, Tiger,” Phichit told him. “Interns aren’t allowed.”

Yuri huffed and slouched back in his seat. “What’s all this _vzdor_ about who’s boss anyway? What does it matter? I thought this was coming together for dinner as friends?”

Another silence fell over the table, the soft bubbling of udon in broth the only sound.

Glances were exchanged, and Victor found himself looking at Yuuri across the table, almost asking if they were friends, hating how important the answer seemed to him.

“I’d love to try pirozhki…” Yuuri said. A smile pursed his lips since he’d caught Victor’s gaze across the table, but there was a telltale sparkle in his eyes.

“How about this?” Sara leaned forward in her seat, pointing her chopsticks at Victor. “We give Russian night a try, on two conditions.”

“Name them.” Victor’s grin was positively predatory now. He was all game.

“ _You_ will rope in Seung-gil. We really want that Korean barbecue. _And_ you’ll bring Mila Babicheva!”

“Consider it done.” Victor nodded and picked up his chopsticks again.

As everyone resumed eating, he leaned in close to Sara and murmured, “If you love someone you should go for it, huh? Tired of waiting around and suffering for Milochka, are you, darling?” Sara blushed profusely and concentrated very hard on the food in her bowl, but she wasn’t fully able to stop the corners of her mouth from twitching.

Later, on the way home, Victor still found himself in high spirits, chuckling softly at Yura’s heartfelt cursing in Russian about how he would never get the sukiyaki stench out of his favourite leopard print jacket, while Makkachin was happily dreaming in the backseat.

The next morning, Victor sashayed into the finance department like he owned the place.

Exchanging smiles and greetings here and there, he headed straight for Seung-gil’s desk.

“Good morning, Seung-gil.”

“Victor.”

Seung-gil gave the faintest nod while he kept his eyes on the screen and his fingers kept hacking numbers into the keyboard.

“So.” Victor perched on the edge of Seung-gil’s desk, ignoring the irritated flicker in the dark eyes looking so concentratedly at the computer screen. “About that Korean barbecue Sara and Yuuri would like to have with you…”

“No.”

“Seung-gil! Why so defensive. It could be fun, no? Everyone seems to believe you can pull off this amazing Korean food. Don’t you want to show them what you’re made of?”

“Do I get any benefit out of doing this?”

Victor answered without hesitation. “I’ll give you two half-day Fridays a month _and_ I’m going to pay for all the ingredients and everything else you need to make Korean dinner.”

“I’ll need a decent table grill.”

“Just get one and bring me the receipt.”

“My dog gets to go to that fancy dog spa retreat you take Makkachin to.”

“Done.”

“I’m a busy man, Victor. The earliest I can make this happen is Sunday in two weeks.”

“No problem.”

“Okay. Sunday in two weeks. Yuuri’s place.”

Seung-gil hadn’t averted his eyes from the screen or ceased typing once.

“Perfect!” Beaming, Victor got up, turned around and sauntered out of the finance department.

His mobile phone started ringing and the took it out of his back pocket. Too many missed calls over the past days lay heavy on his conscience suddenly, even though he wasn’t to blame for all of them.

Victor forewent the lift and headed to the end of the hallway instead where he opened the glass door and stepped out to the stairwell. He took a deep breath before he picked up the incessantly ringing call.

“Hello darling! Please forgive me, I know I’ve been a terrible fiancé.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *gasp*
> 
> Also. What a feeling to write Yuri Plisetsky and he asks all the good questions! :) The Russian 'vzdor' means 'nonsense'.  
> 
> 
> If the slow burn here is too slow for you, perhaps you would like to check out my other Victuuri fic  
> [The One and Only Flower in the World](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22697977). It has no slow burn whatsoever, just sweet sweet puppy love and steamy love-making as they grow older. That fic is very dear to my heart, and I am eternally grateful for every little bit of love it gets. Okay, shameless self-advertising over!


	4. Unravelling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor signs Yuuri up for First Aid class with Chris. Neither one is amused. Victor is taken - but is he happy too? Yuuri is trying, and Chris is being his usual cocky ass self. Or is he...?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's two Yu(u)ris in the same scenes sometimes, but I'm sure you'll be able to tell them apart. I decided to widen the authorial perspective a little from this chapter on, in case anyone wonders about that. Because some things go unnoticed by our boys and I don't want anyone to hate on either of them, so sometimes it helps to look at them through someone else's eyes.
> 
> Someone asked about Chris after last week's chapter. Here he is, getting more screen time than ever. :)
> 
> I hope you've all recovered from last week's surprise. ;) Please don't hate on any character, they all mean well, I promise. Except Chris, probably. :D When in doubt, always check the tags and remember that I love happy endings. 
> 
> This chapter refused to be written at first and then it refused to end. But I needed it as a bridge between the beginning and the good stuff.

**4 – Unravelling**

The quarterly meeting brought together the heads of all departments. It was the first one Yuuri had organised as Chris’ secretary, and he checked several times before it started that the projector worked and that there was enough chairs as well as water, coffee and biscuits provided.

It was Yuri Plisetsky’s first big meeting, too, and he looked extremely unhappy in the suit Sara had insisted he wear. Yuuri guessed Victor had chosen that suit with him because it fit Yuri perfectly and Yuuri could see Victor frowning repeatedly at Yuri across the conference table because he kept pulling and yanking on the green tie around his neck that was no doubt also Victor’s work.

Yuuri himself had foregone a tie altogether and chosen to wear a white polo shirt under his suit because he wouldn’t put it past Victor to waylay him in the hallway and force another one of his ties on him if he could.

Every department manager presented the quarterly review of his or her division including the prospects for the coming months. It was a bit of a boring affair, until it was Sara and Phichit’s turn because as media pros they knew how to present a topic in a lively and engaging manner. Phichit pointed out that Yuri had done the statistics of their social media sites and gestured at his intern across the table, which made Yuri visibly uncomfortable and proud at the same time. He blushed, and yanked his tie a little looser.

Yuuri watched in amusement. He was almost waiting for Victor to tell Yuri to leave his tie alone; Victor sure looked like he was close several times but refrained from it the very last moment.

Finally, Chris rose from his seat at the head of the conference table where he sat flanked by Victor and Sara. He straightened his immaculately cut suit jacket and stepped over to the screen, from where he gave Yuuri a faint nod to start his presentation of the figures and revenues.

Yuuri still found it hard to believe how his boss could change from the obnoxious ass he so often was to a bang on businessman whenever it really mattered. He remembered the Japanese delegation and how he’d been a little worried after Chris’ initial attitude, but from the moment they lift doors opened and Chris stepped forward to meet them first in the reception area he had been a changed man.

That same man was showing off charts and diagrams now, all business and charm as he was obviously happy with the first quarter of the year. The organic range was selling better and better and slowly started to make a profit. Their food line was still their strongest asset, and their chocolate spread currently ranked at number three worldwide, which clearly made Chris especially proud.

“If we can keep this up for the rest of the year, we might be able to reinvest more into trying to get away from palm oil eventually, which should be our future,” Chris concluded his presentation. “Thank you, all of you, for your hard work, and please make sure to pass on my gratitude to your teams.”

The sound of fingers knocking on the table top filled the room for a moment.

“I have a question.”

Chris paused briefly midway on his way back to his seat.

All eyes turned on Yuri, whose tie hung exceedingly wonky around his neck now.

“Yes?” Chris sat down but kept looking at Yuri expectantly.

“Why do we went to stay number three in the world with he chocolate spread? Shouldn’t we aim to surpass Nutella eventually and become number one?”

“That’s a very valid question.” Chris smiled, but he didn’t look condescending at all, more pleased about Yuri taking an interest. “But you know… every company that puts a chocolate spread on the market should be wise enough to know that they will never surpass Nutella. So it’s better to try to maintain a steady number three or even two behind them, or you will never be happy at your job trying to outdo them.”

Yuri pondered over the answer for a moment. “Makes sense. I guess,” he finally said and made a small huffing sound, then nodded.

The meeting panned out after that, with everyone leaving except those who worked on the top floor because there was something Yuuri still needed to address. Yuri Plisetsky grabbed a whole handful of biscuits on the way out and ducked away from Phichit’s reprimanding slap.

“Yuuri, you still have something to address?” Victor gave him an encouraging smile.

Yuuri nodded. “So, um…” He looked at the notes in front of him one the table, then into the round. „Health and Safety Offices called.“

“Oh god,” Chris groaned. “What do they want _now_? We definitely had all the fire extinguishers checked at the beginning of the year!”

“And do you remember where they _are_?” Victor asked him with a cheeky smile.

“We even bought those expensive safety switch whatever multiple sockets they insisted on.” Chris rolled his eyes.

“By the way _those_ … need to be switched off at the end of the day,” Yuuri reminded what looked like everyone but he was hoping everyone knew he basically meant Chris.

“There has to be a first aider on every floor,” Yuuri went on after another look at his notes. “I mean, not just someone who knows how to give first aid, they want a name set down and they want that name in their records. I noticed that Georgi is still listed as that, but…”

He looked at Victor, unsure how to proceed.

“I still have no info as to when he’ll be back,” Victor admitted.

“We need to talk about that, Victor,” Chris said. “I‘m running out of excuses to the board why we still keep him on the payroll.”

“Chris! We can talk about Georgi, but not here, not now!” Victor sighed.

Chris looked around and noticed the uncomfortable expressions on everyone’s face.

“Right. Of course.” Chris leaned back in his seat. Straightened his tie. And actually mumbled “Sorry.”

Yuuri’s eyes popped open so wide, for a moment he feared they might jump out and roll across the fancy carpet of the conference room. Looking around, he saw the same stunned expressions on everyone else’s face except Victor’s.

Yuuri cleared his throat.

“I can do it,” he started, “but your last first aid class mustn’t go back further than two years, which is the case for me. I don’t drive over here and only took the class to get my license in the US, so it’s been some time and I will have to take a First Aid class again to refresh my knowledge.”

“Thank you, Yuuri.” Victor nodded. “Nevertheless, everyone else should also have their first aid skills up to date. I renewed mine last year.”

“Me too,” Steph said.

“Same. Steph and I went together.” Luca, the other lawyer, was a tall, dark and handsome Swiss-Italian, and as far as Yuuri knew there were several betting pools all over the company that had money running on how long it would take for Steph and Luca to end up dating.

Victor looked at the two trainees. “You did mandatory first aid and fire prevention when you started, right?”

They both nodded.

“Chris?” Victor turned to face him. “I dare say yours needs refreshment, doesn’t it?”

“What?” Chris sat up straight in his seat. “I don’t need to a First Aid Class. We have people to do that for us!”

“Chris.” Victor’s patience sounded slightly strained.

Chris raised his hands in aversion. “I didn’t even take First Aid Classes when I got my driver’s licence!”

Everyone stared at him, dumbfounded.

He shrugged. “The guy knew my father, he gave me my licence under the premise that would do the First Aid Class afterwards.”

“That was twelve years ago!” Victor jumped up. “You _told_ me you _took_ that class!”

“And I was going to!” Chris at least had the decency to look sheepish. “I guess… I forgot.”

“You forgot.” Victor narrowed his eyes. “You _forgot_!”

Everyone flinched when Victor raised his voice.

“You completely stupid… _idiot!_ Such irresponsibility!” A gush of Russian followed, so violent from the sound alone that it wasn’t hard to guess what he was probably saying.

“I don’t believe you, Chris!” Victor switched back to English. “I just… don’t! Believe you!”

He leaned over the table until he was nose to nose with Chris. “I’m signing you up for First Aid Class with Yuuri! Next available appointment!” He rose to his full height and glared down at Chris.

“What? Victor!” Chris looked first shocked, and then a little whiney. “You can’t just do that!”

“Watch me.” Victor shook his head and slumped back down in his seat. It was only now that he seemed to remember that he and Chris were not alone.

“I’m sorry.” He ran one hand through his hair and looked sheepishly around the room. His cheeks were glowing an embarrassed pink. “I got a little carried away. It’s just… that’s so important! I could mean saving lives.”

His head whipped round to Chris again. “You’re unbelievable!”

“Um…” Yuuri looked at his notes again, even though he knew there wasn’t anything else written there.

“That’s all for today,” he said, carefully.

“Good.” Chris jumped up and walked stiffly to the door. “Thank you all for your time.”

Yuuri wasn’t back at this desk ten minutes when the internal messenger popped up with a new window.

**Victor Nikiforov**

**_online_ **

_next first aid class is this Thursday evening_

_I signed you both up_

**Yuuri Katsuki**

**_online_ **

_okay_

_thank you!_

**Christophe Giacometti**

**_offline_ **

_fuck you, Victor!!_

Another few minutes later an email arrived from Victor with the confirmation of the class for both Yuuri and Chris and the details regarding time and place as well as directions of how to get there. Yuuri stared at the email for a moment. The class was starting at 8 PM and would take place in the industrial area, quite a way outside the city centre. He could only hope there would still be a bus home when it finished.

**Victor Nikiforov**

**_online_ **

_Chris can give you a lift_

_there and home, too_

Yuuri stared at the words on his screen while one thought dominated his mind: _Oh joy._

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“I see what you’re trying to do there.”

Chris and Victor were spending their lunch break in the company gym in the basement, running on treadmills side by side. Chris wouldn’t have thought it possible that one could actually tilt his head while running on a treadmill, but anyone in doubt had clearly never met Victor Nikiforov.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Victor replied with an enigmatic smile.

“Oh, you do.” Chris smirked. “You’re scheming about that bet again. Signing me up for that class with him so we spend time together. Maybe even force lip-lock when practising mouth-to-mouth resuscitation.”

“Is it working?” Victor grinned.

“You wish, mon cher!” Chris huffed.

Victor grinned and looked straight ahead, beads of sweat glistening on his forehead, a knowing smile pursing his lips.

Chris heaved a sigh in acceptance that this was going nowhere. After a couple of moments with the low, steady sound of the treadmills’ motor and their slightly accelerated breathing the only sound between them, he decided to make another attempt at conversation.

“So. Big dinner with the parents this week, huh? It’s getting serious if they fly in all the way from Dubai.”

Victor didn’t say anything. Suddenly the display in front of him seemed utterly fascinating.

Chris gave him a moment.

“Victor.” Chris reached over to place one hand on Victor’s shoulder, but they each kept up their pace. “Everything’s okay… is it?”

“Perfect.” Victor wiped some sweat from his face with the towel around his neck, wiping off any facial expression too that would have given anything away. When he looked at Chris again, he smiled.

“Just let me know in time when I should get that bachelor party ready,” Chris said. “I have plans.”

“Oh, I’m sure you do.” Again, that beaming Victor smile that Chris found infuriating when he would rather have had answers. He frowned at Victor’s next words.

“Why don’t you take Yuuri out for a drink after your first aid class? You’re giving him a lift home, so… turn on the charm, Chris. Just one drink. Talk to him.”

“And say goodbye to my Jaguar before I know it? I don’t think so.” Chris smirked.

“Just talk to Yuuri, Chris. Get to know him a little. He’s… smart. And funny. Wholesome. Nothing like that leech in Paris who bleeds you dry of money and affection, neither of which he deserves. Yuuri… takes care of people. It would do you good to have someone like him in your life.”

The expression on Victor’s face made Chris frown.

“Are we still talking about our bet, Victor?” he asked, one eyebrow raised.

Victor shook his head with a small laugh.

“Of course we are. Now... I’m going to notch this up a bit.” He lifted his ear pods like an excuse and at the same time to indicate that he would like to put an end to this conversation. Chris nodded. Heaved a sigh as soon as he knew Victor couldn’t hear him anymore because the music resounding from the plugs was loud enough for Chris to make out the actual song.

He watched Victor press the button on the display and increase the speed as he broke into a faster run, the pulse metre climbing quickly.

Chris turned his gaze towards the small TV screen on the wall before him. It showed a forest scene, to give the impression that one was running outside. Chris increased his own speed a little, though nothing anywhere near Victor’s, as he ran steadily and wondered what demons his best friend was running from.

Back at his desk after the lunch break, Chris called Sara.

“Does Victor seem a little weird to you?” he asked after they exchanged greetings.

_We’ve done something really stupid and I think he wants out._ Was what he thought but didn’t say. Sara would kick the both of them from here to eternity if she knew about the bet, plus he and Victor had always had that code of honour going on between them that they never let out their secrets when they cooked up trouble. Countless punishments taken as a team spoke of it, both of them accepting that rather than tell on the other.

“You mean weirder than he normally does?”

“Sara...”

“I know, I know, sorry.”

“Do you think there’s something wrong with the engagement?”

“Other than him going crazy on the dates and gifts as usual, I don’t think so. We all spontaneously went out for drinks last night and they both seemed fine.”

“Not… less in love or anything?”

Sara made a small pause before she replied. “No. More nervous about that dinner with the parents than anything else. I don’t know about you but I always had the feeling that them getting engaged was pretty convenient for either set of parents. Not like Yakov and Lilia would ever force a relationship on Victor but when it happened, they weren’t sad about the connection either.”

“Did they hold hands?” The thought struck him suddenly.

“What?”

“Did they hold hands, Sara? Did they touch? Kiss? Make bedroom eyes at each other?”

“I... sure they did. Maybe? I mean, why wouldn’t they.“ Her sudden hesitation seemed to surprise herself more than it did Chris. „I couldn’t tell you for sure though. I guess so, but… I didn’t pay attention?”

“Yeah, I think we just don’t. Pay attention. Because it was so normal for us.”

“ _Was_ normal?” He heard the spike of irritation in Sara’s voice. “What do you mean?”

“I’m just wondering. When I last consciously saw them holding hands. Or more. Because I suddenly get the feeling that it’s been a while since they were all over each other like they used to be. Like... months?”

“Chris. Do you hear what you’re implying?”

“I’m just worried about Victor. Should we do something?“

“Like what, Chris? It’s normal that one’s more physical in the beginning of a relationship than two years later.I mean normal for _you_ people who are not Italian! But even if there was reason to worry, and there probably isn’t... Victor’s an adult, and you know how he hates it when we meddle. He just wants everyone to be happy.”

_But what about his own happiness?_ Chris wanted to ask. He thought about how eager Victor seemed for him to get to know Yuuri better and heaved another sigh.

“So we do what we’ve always done?” Chris rubbed his eyes with two fingers.

“Exactly,” Sara confirmed. “We’re here for him no matter what happens.”

Chris put down the phone, staring into space for a moment. With that uncanny certainty that comes from knowing someone all your life, he felt unable to shake the feeling that Sara, too, had some doubts at the back of her mind that she didn’t say out loud even to him, for fear of them coming true.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

It was already dark when Chris pulled up outside a beige nondescript box of a building on Thursday night. The industrial area was a fifteen-minute car ride from their office, where Yuuri had met Chris and actually felt a little thrill when Chris held open the passenger of his Jaguar for him. Leo and Phichit had fawned so many times over this car, Yuuri couldn’t wait to tell them about what it felt like to actually ride in it. It smelt like expensive leather and Chris’ expensive perfume inside, and the seats were so comfortable that Yuuri could have driven on for hours. Though preferably not with Chris, who had turned out to have an atrocious taste in music and left Yuuri feeling a little deaf and a lot disgusted after being dolby-surrounded by gangsta rap for the whole duration of the car ride.

Yuuri undid his seatbelt and opened the car door, noticing too late that Chris had already rounded the car and was just reaching out to open the door for him when Yuuri already hopped outside.

“Sorry…” Yuuri mumbled and hoped he wasn’t blushing now.

Chris just gave a non-committal hum and lowered his arm, looking equally sheepish.

It was your average industrial area from what Yuuri could see, a conglomerate of warehouses, office buildings, fast food restaurants, a huge car dealer, and even larger supermarket, and of course the obligatory DIY store and the electronics store, which had the car parks packed and people milling about just before closing hour. Opposite the huge parking lot was a row of said beige nondescript boxes holding offices and other rooms for rental, one of them used by the Red Cross for their first aid classes. 

“Is it okay if I…” Chris held up a pack of cigarettes instead of finishing his question. “Just a quick one.”

“Sure.” Yuuri nodded. He retrieved his phone from the back pocket of his pants and saw they had a good fifteen minutes left until the beginning of the class. Pretending he had messages to check and reply to, he busied himself with his phone, surprised by how fast Chris went through that cigarette. Up until now Yuuri had always believed his sister to be the fastest smoking person he knew.

Yuuri gave Chris a polite nod when Chris held the door open for him yet again and they stepped inside a bleak stairwell with sickening bright light. They had to ascend two sets of stairs until they saw a simple A4 print-out sello-taped to the wall with the words _First Aid Class_ next to the trademark Red Cross and an equally red arrow pointing towards an open door to the right.

Inside, the spacious room reminded Yuuri a little of gym class, but then that might just have been the rolled up yoga mats in one corner. He spotted other props, like a triangular safety reflector and a motorcycle helmet, one of those dolls that look like a real baby, a box spilling over with bandages. The floor was light grey linoleum, the windows without curtains, the walls stark white where they were not covered with posters depicting the Red Cross’ work in all its facets. A row of simple plastic fold-out chairs was set up along one wall, some of them already occupied by other participants talking more or less quietly to each other.

Meeting Chris’ eyes in silent understanding, Yuuri headed for two empty chairs at the end of the row, nodding and murmuring polite greetings to the people who were already there. While he was still fretting over whether he shouldn’t be having something at least resembling a conversation with Chris because this silent skulking about was more than awkward, a phone buzzed somewhere between them and Chris reached into his jacket’s inside pocket.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered low under his breath to Yuuri, “I’m expecting an important email from Canada.”

Yuuri nodded, instantly flooded by relief. He tried to read one of the posters on the wall nearby, squinting despite his glasses at the information he had seen a million times already in the office on the safety instructions put up in their tea kitchen with all the relevant emergency phone numbers and the W questions he had memorised in case he would ever have to make one of those calls.

“Two… four… six… eight… ten. Perfect! We’re complete!” The unexpected sound of a voice made Yuuri turn from the poster towards the door, which was right at this moment being closed by a young man in jeans and a white T-shirt whom Yuuri assumed to be their instructor.

“Good evening!” He turned around to face the group and Yuuri felt Chris sit up straighter in the chair beside him immediately. “Welcome to tonight’s First Aid Class. My name is Ruben, and I have been with the Red Cross for five years and teaching this class for three of them.”

Now that he was facing them, Yuuri could see the Red Cross logo over his left chest on his T-shirt. He lookedno older than early twenties, and he _was_ handsome, with light brown shoulder-length curly hair, blue eyes, and a smile like the sunrise. Chris was immediately smitten, and Yuuri was immediately appalled by the fact. Inwardly Yuuri cringed, wishing fervently that Chris would be more like his work persona in private, too, and less of an ass. Clearly the man who had held open car and other doors to him earlier completely vanished at the sight of a handsome young man in his vicinity. Yuuri repressed a sigh. This was going to be a long night.

There were formalities to go through before they were able to begin; course fees had to be paid in cash and Ruben ticked their names off a list and checked their IDs.

After a round of introductions, Ruben showed them the steps of what Yuuri learned was called ‘rescue chain’ over here. Ruben used the posters on the wall to walk them through the stages and showed them how to properly place the triangular safety reflector to secure the accident site, and how to make the necessary emergency calls and in what order. Once the theoretical part was over, it was time for first aid measures that could be demonstrated on actual people.

“I know that these classes normally ask for volunteers…”

Next thing he knew, Yuuri found himself hardcore face-palming when Chris’ interrupted with a very smooth “ _I’m_ happy to volunteer if you want to show how the kiss of life works.”

Ruben laughed and shook his light-brown curls. “That’s very generous of you, Chris, but for the overall benefit of everyone learning how it’s done, I would like you to pair off in twos and practise on each other.”

He asked them to pass the yoga mats around and spread out on the floor throughout the room. Yuuri knew it was pointless to even wish for another outcome because the other participants of the class either knew each other or naturally stuck to the person seated right next to them, but he couldn’t help but swallow down yet another irritated sigh when he found himself, of course and against better knowledge, paired off with Chris.

Ruben started with the group nearest to him and demonstrated the recovery position, patiently explaining the motions again and again as he had all the groups follow the first group’s example and Ruben walked from one to the next, checking, helping and correcting. Yuuri felt Chris might have dropped the cheeky grin as he gently tilted his head back and lifted his chin, leaning over to pretend to check nothing was blocking his airway. It got worse when they had to swap places and Chris started moving Yuuri’s body around carefully.

“Very good, Chris,” Yuuri heard Ruben’s voice somewhere above them, “though when you bend his knee and roll him over onto his side, make sure not to have your hand too far up. You’re supposed to pull on the bent knee, not fondle their thighs.”

Yuuri grinned gleefully into his hand that was folded under his cheek.

Next came CPR, and Yuuri remained lying on the floor as the same procedure of Ruben explaining, demonstrating and going from group to group started again. Luckily, Chris behaved himself this time as he placed the heel of his hand on Yuuri’s breastbone, added his other hand on top and interlocked his fingers. He looked up for a moment, looking at the other groups for the correct position he should be in and then leaned over Yuuri until his shoulders were above his hands. He started the compressions, and Yuuri winced a little at the unfamiliar pressure on his chest.

“Sorry…” Chris murmured, voice deep and quiet, and Yuuri shook his head, indicating that there was no need because this was what they were here for after all, learning how to do this correctly.

“Is it true that you should do this to the beat of ‘Stayin‘ Alive’?” someone asked.

Multiple chuckles answered. Chris paused above Yuuri and looked up at the others, his concentration making way for a smile momentarily.

“Actually, it is.” Ruben laughed. “100 beats per minute is the standard rate to which you should perform CPR, and ‘Stayin’ Alive’ is always good orientation. There are some other songs too that work, like ‘Dancing Queen’ or ‘Sweet Home Alabama’. You can find whole lists of them online. Now, if I were a better singer I would sing for you myself, but I am not, so I’ll rely on modern technology for help.”

He waved his phone around with one hand, then scrolled a little over the display and sure enough, a moment later the Bee Gees’ pulsing disco beat resounded through the room.

Yuuri looked up at Chris and the moment their eyes met and he saw Chris’ slightly embarrassed smirk, Yuuri started giggling. This felt somewhat ridiculous, he couldn’t help thinking, and when he turned his head he could see a similar pink flush on the face of the woman lying on the mat nearest to him who was trying not to laugh harder as much as he was.

“Okay, we’ve all had a moment for giggles now,” Ruben called out over the music. “Can we all get serious again please and remember why we’re here?”

He led them through the motions, pressing and releasing and repeating, with the firmness of a merciless gym instructor. Halfway through the song he made them swap places and Yuuri found himself on his knees beside Chris, bringing his hands down on Chris’ chest how he remembered learning it in the US. By the time the song came to an end, Yuuri was exhausted. He leaned back on his heels as Ruben complimented them all on doing quite well.

He added that none of them would probably ever forget how put on the spot they had felt during those past four minutes but it would be good for them to always remember this because it might one day save a life.

“Okay.” Ruben clapped his hand once. “Next step in CPR - who has given rescue breaths before?”

Several hands came up, including Yuuri’s.

“Good.” Ruben nodded. “So we are now going to repeat the CPR we just did but every 30 compressions you will give two rescue breaths.”

Once again he explained exactly what to do by the group next to him before he asked everyone else to repeat. Yuuri glanced down at Chris, who was looking back up at him looking so… cute, somehow. Yuuri frowned. Every version of Chris he knew was suddenly gone, leaving behind this very relaxed man with a gorgeous face under his mop of blond curls and green puppy eyes behind round glasses that looked like he would entrust the world to Yuuri at this very moment. Yuuri shook his head very lightly and concentrated on the task at hand. He placed his hands on Chris’ chest again and started the chest compressions.

When he reached 30 he tilted Chris’s head carefully. The immaculately trimmed stubble prickled under his fingers as he lifted Chris’ chin up. Remembering the motions, he pinched Chris’ nose and bent over him.

The moment he placed his mouth over Chris’, every sentiment of cute vanished in the cold ashes of the cigarette Chris had smoked outside before they went in. Yuuri fought down the repulsion and blew steadily and firmly into Chris’ mouth. He checked that Chris’ chest rose, then breathed into him again. He was glad when he was able to rise up again and continue the chest compressions, but when he neared 30 he had to steel himself because he felt trapped in every nightmare he had ever had when he thought of his sister kissing her smoker boyfriends on dates. He could only hope his face wasn’t giving too much away.

They had to swap places again and Yuuri felt a little like a virgin in those hentai anime he had sneakily watched when he was younger - wanting to lie back with his eyes closed and squeaking “ _dame! dame!”_ while he waited for it to be over. He couldn’t even feel the slightest bit of triumph over finding his theory about kissing a smoker being like kissing an ashtray proved right; he just wanted to go home.

Ruben brought out the baby doll after that and they all gathered around him as he demonstrated how to alter the moves when giving CPR to small infants, placing two fingers on the chest and breathing five times into them instead of just two. For a moment Yuuri was afraid they would all have to practise the rescue breaths one after the other on the doll when they had to take turns, but luckily they only had to imitate the compressions.

Next, Ruben fetched the box with all the bandages and showed them how to put on a compressing bandage. They had to work in pairs again, and Yuuri bandaged Chris’ knee while Chris in turn bandaged Yuuri’s hand.

“Are you okay?” Chris asked at some point as he watched Yuuri struggle with the endings of the bandage that didn’t want to stay fastened under the tightly wrapped layers he’d wound around Chris’ knee.

“Fine.” Yuuri looked up briefly and gave him what he hoped was a reassuring smile. He didn’t want to think about whether Chris had noticed how put off he’d been by the remnants of cigarettes on his breath because the acute embarrassment would bring on unwelcome anxiety he absolutely didn’t need now.

Last but not least, they learned how to take off a motorcycle helmet in case they came upon an accident with a motorcyclist involved. The helmet among the props went from one person the next in the group until everyone had worn it once and everyone had also had a go at removing it correctly.

“And that’s it,” Ruben concluded the class. “Give yourselves a round of applause because you’ve all done really well.”

Smiles and mumbles of relief mingled with the clapping.

It was almost midnight, and Yuuri was glad that the class was over and he was able to grab his jacket and put it on. A small group of people still stood round Ruben in a half circle, chatting, asking questions, exchanging experiences. While Yuuri waited for Chris to grow tired of his pathetic attempts to chat up Ruben, he felt half tempted to call a taxi. He took out his phone and saw a couple of messages from Victor on the display.

_Yuuuuuri!!!!_

_I’m so glad you agreed to do this with Chris._

_Why don’t you get a drink on the way home?_

_Chris can be quite nice if he behaves himself._

Yuuri looked up and over to Chris. He huffed quietly. _Behaves_ himself, he thought, wondering whether Victor _really_ knew Chris inside out.

A very pretty young woman with long blond hair like an angel’s falling around her face and down her back came in through the now open door and walked straight up to Ruben, moving self-confidently between the people until she was right by his side and slipped both arms possessively around his waist while she smiled a smile as angelic as her hair.

“I’m so sorry, but can I take my boyfriend home now?” she asked into the round. “It’s quite late, I think most of us need to get up for work tomorrow morning?”

Laughter and agreement answered her, though Yuuri tried to bite back a mischievous smile when he saw the instant disappointed confusion on Chris’ face. It looked like he wouldn’t need to call a taxi after all.

The car ride back was silent, and Yuuri was glad about the absence of music this time. He stared out the window on the passenger side, willing time to pass faster as he tried to think of something that would have struck up a conversation with Chris. He didn’t want to talk shop, and he didn’t want to ask how his cat was either. So he played around with his phone in his hands and eventually typed a text to Phichit.

_Help! I’m alone in the car with Chris and it’s awkward!_

_What do I talk about???_

“So, Yuuri.”

He jumped a little when Chris suddenly spoke.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to…” Chris cleared his throat and cast him a quick sideways glance before he concentrated on the road ahead again. The city lights were getting closer, and Chris pulled in towards the centre. Traffic was manageable at this hour, already they were passing the welcome city sign.

“I was thinking… would you still like to go for a drink? Just a nightcap. I know this cute little bar…”

Of course you do, Yuuri thought, suddenly feeling very glued to his seat and unable to move. Victor’s messages came to mind, and he wondered what the hell all this was about. The fact that he was born and raised in a culture where you never say no to your boss when he wants to go for a drink, no matter the hour of the day, put him in absolute agony.

“It’s quite late…” Yuuri finally said, because he couldn’t think of anything else to say, fervently hoping that Chris got the message. “You have an early meeting.”

“You’re right.” Chris’ voice didn’t give away any emotion.

Yuuri turned his head. He thought he saw disappointment flit across Chris’ face in the light of a street lamp they passed, and he was glad for the dim light inside the car because suddenly he felt terrible. Phone in his lap, he typed out another message, wondering briefly why Phichit hadn’t replied to the first one yet.

_Peach! He wants to go for a drink!_

_I said no._

_Was that too rude?? Should I have gone with him?_

_PEACH???_

They remained silent until Chris pulled up outside Yuuri’s building. Yuuri undid the seatbelt and turned to face Chris.

“Thank you very much for the lift,” he said politely. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Goodnight Yuuri.” Chris expression was unreadable, though the ghost of a smile flit across his face.

Yuuri got out of the car, wished Chris a quiet “Goodnight” and slammed the door shut.

He didn’t turn around again, but he was pretty sure Chris didn’t drive off until he knew Yuuri safely inside the building.

It wasn’t until the next morning that Yuuri realized that Phichit had never replied to any of his messages.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

In the end Victor didn’t get to enjoy any of the Korean barbecue he so graciously paid for because of work.

Seung-gil showed up at Yuuri’s place in the morning with several kilos of marinated meat to store in Yuuri’s fridge as well as five shopping bags full of vegetables which he set Yuuri and Phichit to work on with the clipped precision of a Korean military general.

“We’re making fifteen kinds of _banchan_???” Phichit gaped. He was in his pyjamas, having just walked over from next door when Seung-gil had arrived and demanded his help.

“You wanted Korean barbecue. We do this right or not at all,” Seung-gil replied matter-of-factly.

“Alright, alright.” Phichit yawned. “Just give me coffee and I’m good to go.”

Seung-gil left them with pictured instructions on how all the vegetables needed to be prepped and said he would be back later with the table grill and various other ingredients.

“So do you think Victor’s really working tonight or...” Phichit looked up from the cucumber he was currently slicing.

“Or what?” Yuuri shook his head at him, laughing a little, before he concentrated again on cutting radish into perfect matchsticks.

Phichit lowered his knife. “I’m just wondering. What if he has a date?”

Yuuri didn’t look up from the radish on the chopping boards. “Peach, I told you. The mid-year performance review is coming up and they’re up to their ears in work. Victor’s been over the personnel costs for days.”

“D’you think they’ll have to cut back on staff?” Phichit had foregone the cucumber completely and picked up his coffee instead.

“I hope not.” Yuuri lowered his knife now, too. It was an unsettling thought. “I think that’s what Victor’s trying so desperately to prevent.”

“Are you bummed he won’t be here?” Phichit grinned.

Yuuri just shot him an exasperated glance and moved the first pile of radish matchsticks into one of the waiting bowls before he reached for the next one and cut off the top.

“I bet _he’s_ bummed he can’t be here.” Phichit’s grin widened.

“Peach!” Yuuri sighed. “Stop reading things into this. We’re just friends. I’m not into Victor and he’s spoken for.”

“But we don’t know that for sure.” Phichit waved his coffee mug around for emphasis.

“I see his diary all the time for work. He doesn’t lock private appointments as private. I’m guessing Georgi used to do it for him but he’s still off sick so Victor just puts in all his appointments himself without marking them private. I see all the date nights, hairdresser and vet appointments, dinner parties... a week ago he went to view some place that is _the_ wedding location in the area! He sent red roses to someone on Valentine’s Day and had a date that night, and sometimes gifts he orders arrive at the office.”

He decided not to mention the very delicate doctor’s appointment he could also see in Victor’s diary.

“Or the entry that said _Pick I. up from airport!_ After that day, the dates and gifts went up in numbers.”

“Gifts might be for Makkachin,” Phichit suggested. “Whoever ‘I.’ is.”

“Trust me, I’d have heard about it if Cartier made diamond studded bracelets for dogs now.”

“They could at least be for a boyfriend then. We have no proof he’s straight.” Phichit did that thing with his eyebrows that always made Yuuri think he practised that reprimanding wriggle in front of the mirror.

Yuuri’s eyebrows shot up in response. “Victoria’s Secret, Peach! If you’re trying to tell me now that he does not order those for a woman and try to convince me of some weird kink he might harbour, then I’ll reconsider if I still want to be friends with you _or_ Victor anymore!”

Phichit laughed and downed his remaining coffee in one go.

Yuuri guessed he was looking as flustered as he felt inside as he put down his knife. “Phichit.”

His friend became very still then; it was serious when Yuuri used his proper name.

“Please, Phichit! I don’t want to get my hopes up, okay? Don’t make me.” Yuuri looked at him beseechingly across the table. “I like him. As a friend and as a colleague. We bond over our poodles. That’s it.”

“Okay.” Phichit said softly. “I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

“Then stop teasing and making assumptions. Please.” Yuuri swallowed hard. “I _need_ to believe that he’s unavailable, in a romantic sense. I have to.”

_Or I’m in serious danger of losing my heart here._

Was what he did not say out loud. But Phichit heard him nonetheless.

“Do you think you _can_?” Phichit asked, quietly.

Yuuri braved a smile. “You’re the captain of my cheerleading squad, Peach. Just cheer me on and make sure I don’t get off track.”

Evening came and with it the clipped, rough charm of Seung-gil, who visibly relaxed and mellowed with every slice of beef that he threw on the table grill and harvested grateful compliments for, and Mila, who swept in like a fire storm that matched the colour of her hair. She was as bold as she was hearty, something she referred to her as her Russian charm. Yuuri watched with interest how first glances and then sparks flew back and forth between her and Sara, the two of them still circling each other like planets hovering on the edge of gravitational pull.

They sat around the kitchen table this time, with added chairs Leo and Phichit had brought over. The ways to more food and drinks from the fridge were shorter, the space more narrow, and it made everyone move a little closer together. When Mila suggested to video-call Victor, they were all game.

Victor looked pale and worn out on Mila’s phone screen. But he smiled.

“Milochka. Hi!”

“Vitya! You’re missing out on all this!” Mila turned the camera towards the table and scanned the countless small bowls holding vegetable side dishes, sauces, kimchi, and the two plates stacked high with meat and shrimp glistening in spicy marinade. Seung-gil was just taking some cooked beef, pork belly and shrimp from the grill with tongs and put them on a plate he had already arranged some vegetables on. He waved the plate into the camera. “This is yours, Victor!” he said before he tucked in.

Victor’s laughter could be heard through the phone.

Yuuri found himself gathered behind Mila with the others as everyone wanted to say hello to Victor and thank him for persuading Seung-gil to do this for them.

“I’ll be there next time,” Victor promised. “I hope Seung-gil doesn’t think this is a one-off thing after he made me buy him a fancy table grill.”

“I think he might have.” Phichit laughed as he looked across the table at Seung-gil who was half choking on a piece of meat. Clearly a repeat run like Victor suggested was news to him. Leo, who had remained seated, reached out casually with one arm to pat Seung-gil on the back a couple of times.

“Vityaaaaa....” Mila waved a slice of _bulgogi_ temptingly into the camera. “It’s so goooood!”

“So mean, Milochka!” Victor pouted. “It does look amazing.”

“I could bring in leftovers tomorrow,” Yuuri suggested before he could think. “Reheat them in the microwave.”

“Don’t reheat _bulgogi_ in the microwave, the meat will become chewy!” Seung-gil barked from across the table. “Only way to heat it up is a frying pan!”

They let Victor get back to work soon after, though Yuuri found it hard not to think about him, stuck behind his desk and looking so exhausted already.

When everyone was so full they could barely move anymore, they unplugged the grill and stuffed Yuuri’s fridge full of leftovers. Phichit invited himself over for dinner the next evening. They moved over to the living room, Yuri Plisetsky slumping down in one corner of the sofa like he owned it, while Mila took the other end and Sara sat down beside her. Leo was in the armchair with Guang Hong in his lap.

Yuuri found himself next to Phichit on chairs they brought over from the kitchen and placed facing the sofa. Seung-gil was on Phichit’s other side. The coffee table between them was full of their drinks and a bowl of fruit, just in case.

There was no chance for an evening to wind down quietly if Mila was around, Yuuri thought as he watched her lead the conversation with ease. She was also the first one who felt able to eat again, pouring over the fruit basket and finally deciding on some grapes. But having Mila over also added another piece to the puzzle that was Victor. A couple of years younger than Victor and hailing from a family who were close friends of Yakov’s too, Mila was too young to remember Victor’s parents but knew him from his visits to Russia since she could barely walk, and more recently since she had come to live with Yakov and Lilia to have a chance to attend better schools and start a job she would never have found in Russia. Her fondness of Victor was obvious, but then Yuuri had yet to meet a person who did not like Victor.

Mila loved her gossip, and soon they were knee-deep into discussing the nature of Steph and Luca’s relationship and Yuuri felt several pairs of eyes turned on him with interest, like he knew more just because he worked on the same floor as them and saw them together every day.

“And what about yourself, Yuuri?” Mila asked. “Is Victor trying to set you up with Chris?”

“What??!” Phichit, Seung-gil and Yuri Plisetsky snapped simultaneously, while Yuuri felt himself go still.

“What makes you think so?” he managed to ask, keeping his voice neutral.

“Nothing. Just winding you up.” She winked. “I wouldn’t put it past Vitya to try though, god knows he’s been known to hook people around him up into happy couples.” She ate a grape.

For Yuuri this was just another confirmation that Victor was unavailable. You didn’t try to pair off the people around you into happy couples unless you were part of a happy couple yourself. Everybody knew that.

“What about you, Mila?” Sara cut in, and Yuuri cast her a grateful smile for drawing attention from him.

Sara turned to Mila in her sofa corner, the expression on her face not unlike that of a cat who got the mouse cornered. “Are you dating anyone?”

Mila became still and looked at Sara for a long moment. Yuuri suddenly felt the slight unease of intruding on something very private.

“ _You_ tell _me_ , Sara.” Mila’s voice, her whole demeanour, changed, became softer, calmer. Tame. “I thought I might have been dating someone for these past few hours... am I?”

Sara held Mila’s gaze for a long time. The room was so quiet one could have heard a pin drop. Yuuri watched the others, carefully from under lowered lashes. Everyone was desperately trying to look somewhere else, apart from Yuri Plisetsky, who was staring at the two girls, not comprehending.

After what seemed like a small eternity but had probably just been a few minutes that stretched on forever, Sara’s face burst into the biggest smile ever.

“Of course you are!” she exclaimed and flung herself at Mila. Mila’s arms came around her and they shared an overexcited hug in the sofa corner, laughing until they were breathless, foreheads resting together like they were in their own little world.

“Wait!” Yuri Plisetsky looked wildly around Sara and Mila and the other people in the room. “You’re a lesbian?”

Everybody laughed.

Sara swung her head around and looked at him, while at the same Mila looked at Yuri over Sara’s shoulder, both of them saying yes with their eyes in a ‘Have you got a problem with that??’ kind of way.

“I didn’t mean it like that!” Yuri positively growled in defence. “I just didn’t expect it is all. You’re so... girly!”

Laughter resounded through the room. Yuri snarled some more at being teased, then he said, still a little grumpy and in disbelief, “Some company! Three out of four people in higher management are gay.”

Yuuri watched, smiling, how Sara turned on the sofa so that she was cuddling back into Mila’s embrace like Leo and Guang Hong did so many times. Maybe it was something about that particular corner of his sofa, he mused. Looking around, his gaze met Guang Hong’s and they smiled at each other, knowing without words that they’d been thinking similar thoughts at this very moment.

“Victor is not straight though,” Mila said, popped a grape in her mouth and leaned back into the couch, arms around Sara’s middle.

Yuuri’s head whipped round, his eyes wide.

“Of course he is,” Leo argued. “What about Bella?”

“Well, I know for a fact that he’s had a boyfriend in the past.” Mila shrugged.

Yuuri swatted Phichit’s hand away from where it was grabbing his thigh excitedly.

“And do you remember, some years ago there was this huge scandal that was hushed by the big bosses, when Chris and Victor got thrown out of that gay bar in Moscow and barely made it without getting beaten up by a homophobic mob? That was shortly after I came over here to live with them.”

“I remember that!” Sara said and gave Leo a pointed look. “Papa and Josef were so mad.”

Leo nodded. “We were called in in the middle of the night to monitor the internet, under strict orders to pull any pictures that might pop up of the incident! There were pictures of Chris wearing nothing but a pair of golden underpants and black heels.” He coughed. “We needed to… go some lengths to find them all.” He exchanged a meaningful glance with Guang Hong, and it was clear to a selected few what ‘to go some lengths’ meant.

“Chris’ parents ordered him all the way back home to Zurich, to their original office where they started out,” Sara remembered. “They made him do administration and archive works for months before he was allowed back here and into management.”

“Yakov was livid,” Mila said thoughtfully, turning another grape between her fingers. “I thought he was going to hit Victor for the first time in his life.”

“He was angry with Victor for being… in a gay bar?” Yuuri frowned. A lot of things deeply confused him about the turn the conversation had taken, and he didn’t even want to think about who Bella could possibly be, but first and foremost Mila’s words didn’t tie in at all with how fondly Victor spoke of Yakov.

“Not because he was in gay bar, hell, no.” Mila shook her head, sending red curls flying. “Because it was in Russia, where homophobia is a real issue. And eventually it turned out that it might have been some kind of set-up. Someone seemed to have lured them there on purpose.”

“Someone hired people to hurt them on purpose???” Yuuri repeated, shocked.

“Not sure about those, but the paparazzi who took the embarrassing pictures had definitely been tipped off. I suspect it was someone from Yakov’s past holding a grudge, so they tried to take it out on his children, so to speak. We never found out the whole truth of course. Like Yakov would tell us! But Victor could have really gotten hurt, because Chris wanted to go to this gay bar, and that made Yakov mad. Yakov has only ever wanted Victor to be happy. It was his way of coping with the shock of something seriously awful almost happening to Victor.”

The words still resounded in Yuuri’s mind after everyone had left and he was lying in his bed trying to get to sleep. Mila knew things about Victor and was bold enough to say them out loud. Sara must know, too, Yuuri was suddenly sure, but she didn’t talk about it, knowing that perhaps they were not her stories to tell. The small anxious voices in Yuuri’s head started whispering, wanting him to be angry with Sara for never mentioning a boyfriend in Victor’s past. He struggled for a while to reign them in, knowing that he had no right to accuse Sara of not sharing knowledge she couldn’t possibly know he was interested in for one thing, and that wasn’t any of his business either. The thoughts chased each other in his mind until they bit into their own tail and he found himself tossing restlessly in his bed.

Thoughts of Victor flooded his mind, and he brought an angry fist down on his bed. It filled him with dread and fury alike. To think that someone could have physically hurt Victor and Chris, just for being in a gay bar. That someone would take a grudge over Yakov out on them. He closed his eyes and tried to steady his breathing before his train of thoughts derailed at the question what a sick world they were living in. How much love Yakov must be hiding behind the fear that someone could have hurt Victor, had been so close to doing so, that it almost unloaded in a slap.

Yuuri couldn’t stop thinking about how tired Victor had looked when they called him. And after his thoughts returned to that pale face for the hundredth time, Yuuri rolled out of bed and did what he tried to avoid at all costs after hours or on weekends: he logged into his work mail. And when he saw that he’d received copies of emails Victor had sent not even ten minutes ago he started fretting. He knew that unlike Chris, Victor never took work home. Work was for the office, he always said. Which meant he was still there.

Yuuri didn’t think much about his next actions. He moved as if on autopilot.

Within minutes he was in the kitchen and reheating rice in the steamer and leftover bulgogi in a frying pan. The fancy bento box he had spent way too much money on came in handy now, he thought as he filled it with the reheated food and closed the lid tight, knowing it would keep the food hot for hours if need be. Vegetables, dips and sauce went in other containers of his assorted bento equipment. In the end he placed all containers carefully into a bento bag which in turn went into his backpack. He rushed back into his bedroom to get dressed. His laptop still sat on the dresser and a quick glance at his inbox showed him another email from Victor, a couple of minutes old.

He was tying the laces of his trainers when the click of eager paws came nearer across the living room. Vicchan looked at him expectantly, and Yuuri grinned.

“You want to come along?” He reached for a coat and scarf from the coatrack. “It might be good to have you with me as an excuse.” He wound the scarf around his neck as he kept talking to Vicchan. “Don’t look at me like that. I know this is probably a very stupid thing I’m doing here, and I’m not even drunk. Especially after what I said this morning to Phichit. At least you can’t tell on me.”

He slipped his backpack on, grabbed the leash and left his apartment, Vicchan happily skipping ahead.

Outside on the pavement he clipped Vicchan’s leash on.

“Where are you going, Yuuri?”

He swung around at the sudden sound of a voice behind him.

Guang Hong was standing a couple of metres away in the circle of light cast by a streetlamp, waiting patiently for Shi who was currently sniffing around the shrubbery two buildings down from theirs until he decided if they were worthy of him cocking his leg there.

“Walkies,” Yuuri said after a moment’s hesitation at getting caught. “Vicchan was restless, I thought I’d take him out again so he won’t keep me awake in the night.” He looked down at Vicchan, who was luckily not letting him down, tugging impatiently on his leash.

“Mhm.” Guang Hong nodded, wistfully. “Don’t stay out too long.”

“I won’t,” Yuuri replied and turned to head off in the opposite direction. “Good night, you guys.”

“Say hi to Victor,” he heard Guang Hong say softly behind him.

He could hear the mirth in his friend’s voice as he crossed the street, a smile on his face.

The click-click of Vicchan’s paws was unnaturally loud on the marble floor of the deserted foyer. Lawrence, the security guard on duty, looked up from his post behind the reception where Yuuri knew a set of monitors was built into the heavy front showing footage from several cameras. His colleague must be doing his rounds, Yuuri thought.

“Good evening, Mr Katsuki.” The older man nodded. His eyes lit up at the sight of the small dog sniffing the reception desk with interest.

“Good evening, Lawrence.” Yuuri frowned at Vicchan and tugged lightly on the leash, hoping he wouldn’t try to pee against the reception desk. “And didn’t we already establish that you can call me Yuuri?”

“Ah, old habits die hard, you know?” Lawrence had stood up and walked around the reception desk to go down on one knee to pet Vicchan.

“Working you hard, the young master, is he?” he asked, looking up at Yuuri with one hand in chocolate-brown fur. “Victor’s been here for hours. I hope you have some food for the poor boy in there.”

He nodded vaguely at what Yuuri believed meant his backpack.

“Karl and I offered him some of our sandwiches but you know Victor, he just smiled that heart-shaped smile of his and kindly refused.”

“Yeah.” Yuuri nodded for lack of what to say, scratching the back of his neck in slight embarrassment when he thought about why he was here. He knew Lawrence had started working for Crispino & Giacometti as a young man, when both founders were still in charge. He had seen and heard many things over the years, including Chris, Victor and Sara growing up. Of course he would call _Victor_ by his first name. 

For a moment Yuuri felt tempted to leave Vicchan down here with Lawrence because they got on so well, but the thought of Victor’s face lighting up at the sight of a dog, any dog, made him decide against it. He let them goof around a couple of minutes more, then made his way over to the lift. It always felt a little eerie, being in the empty building that normally buzzed with voices and ringing telephones. He watched the lights climb with the numbers as he went up, tried to hear nothing but the low hum of the moving lift and not his heart that he refused to believe was really beating so loud that he could hear it pulsing in his ears. 

The ping when he arrived on the top floor and the sound of the doors sliding open and closed seemed unnaturally loud. The open space lay in darkness, the only light coming from the glass above Victor’s door and the cone of light thrown across the carpet through his half open door. Yuuri was sure he’d heard typing though it stopped now. Of course, Victor didn’t expect anyone.

“I’m still here, Karl, like I told you an hour ago, and no, I still don’t want you to get me a pizza, even though I every much appreciate you looking after me so well.”

Vicchan gave a happy bark when he heard Victor’s amused voice call out from his office.

Yuuri could almost see the way Victor paused and frowned in disbelief now, he didn’t even need to be in his office yet. Vicchan was tugging hard on his leash so he just followed along, pushing the door to Victor’s office fully open as he went.

“Yuuri!” Victor pushed out his chair when he saw him come in, his eyes and smile with surprise.

Yuuri barely had time to unclip the leash before Vicchan already bolted towards Victor and found himself picked up into his lap.

“And _you!_ ” Victor was beaming like someone had switched on a light. “What a nice surprise. How sweet of you to come and see me!”

Yuuri looked on for a moment, grinning because who could possibly not grin at a man and a small dog engaging in some happy shenanigans of cuddles and licks and silly cooing.

“Yuuri, what are you doing here?” Victor asked when at last he looked up, hands still gently petting the dog in his lap.

He looked the worse for wear, eyes tired and hair in disarray from frustrated hands buried in it. Yuuri was briefly amused by the fact that even on a Sunday Victor would wear a shirt to work, though if the light blue cotton had been crisp when he put it on, it was way past that stage now, with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and the top three buttons undone. At least he was in jeans and without a tie, Yuuri thought and repressed a smirk.

“You missed Korean barbecue, after we owe it to you that it happened in the first place, and there were so many leftovers…”

Yuuri slipped the backpack off his shoulders and set it down in one sofa corner. He heard more than he saw Victor getting up from his desk chair, holding Vicchan up against his chest like a child.

“Yuuri, did you bring me food???”

Yuuri paused mid-movement from unzipping the backpack, a sheepish, lopsided smile on his face. “Yes?” he asked, suddenly very much in doubt about his spontaneous idea.

“Amazing!” And Victor laughed. Yuuri was reminded of the first time he had heard that laughter, weeks ago while he was dressed in one of the most embarrassing outfits ever seen by mankind. Somehow it made him feel glad to hear that sound again. “You’re amazing.”

Victor shook his head in surprise and disbelief.

“Your _papa_ …” he said it pointedly to Vicchan as he held him up close to his face, glancing briefly up at Yuuri as he did so, mischief flashing in his blue eyes. “… is amazing!”

Smiling, Yuuri shook his head, too.

“Now, there’s meat in a special bento box that keeps the food warm,” Yuuri explained, “but I still think you shouldn’t leave it too long.”

Victor nodded and bent down to gently put Vicchan on the floor. The dog scurried over to Yuuri right away, sniffing the backpack with interest, which had Victor laughing some more and Yuuri lifting the bento holding the meat high up over Vicchan’s head and scolding softly that this was not for him.

“I just need to finish one thing very quickly,” Victor said.

“I’ll get you a plate and cutlery.” Yuuri headed out across the hall towards the kitchen. A used mug stood in the sink, a jar of instant coffee with a spoon lying beside it was out on the small counter. 

When he came back, Victor was sitting at his desk again, tapping his mouth with one finger while he stared at the screen, transfixed.

Yuuri pulled out the small glass table that stood by the head of the sofa and moved it closer to the middle of the sofa with one hand before he put down the plates, fork, and napkins he’d brought from the kitchen and arranged them nicely. Then he took the bento bag from his backpack and started taking the containers out. He had brought a spare pair of chopsticks from home as well, which he placed above the plate. The cold food he merely arranged on a second plate while he left the meat and rice in the bento box so it wouldn’t get cold.

By the time he was finished with the preparations and had made sure Vicchan was curled up in one corner of the sofa and knew, hopefully, that he had to stay away from the food, Yuuri didn’t feel Victor had moved at all. He was still staring at the screen, forehead crinkled in a frown.

“Are we…” Yuuri licked his lips and tried to swallow because his mouth was feeling exceedingly dry all of a sudden. “I mean, is C&G in some kind of trouble?”

He hated now nervous he sounded. Victor looked up when Yuuri spoke.

“No, Yuuri.” Victor shook his head, smiling a reassuring smile. “We’re good.”

He put a barely noticeable stretch on the ‘we’, picking up on Yuuri’s subconscious slip and emphasizing how much on the same page they were with their dedication to this company.

And Yuuri noticed something else, about himself, at this moment. He noticed how much attention he paid to that smile, wanting to make sure it reached Victor’s eyes. Next thing he wondered was when he had started noticing that not all of Victor’s smiles did, and how much he wanted them to, wanted Victor to always smile genuinely. 

“We’re waiting for a deal to come through, and it’s driving the board a little mad that they’re stalling.”

Now, _that_ smile didn’t reach Victor’s eyes. 

Yuuri knew that while Chris, Victor, Michele and Sara were handling all operative business now, there was still a supervisory board in the background, comprised of Chris and Sara’s fathers, Yakov and Lilia, and two other parties guarding and promoting interest, seeing that everything was at rights, and providing support if needed.

“So what exactly are you doing now?” Yuuri asked as he stepped closer and walked behind Victor’s chair to get a look at his screen.

Victor pulled a face.

“Juggling these numbers but they refuse to come together in one of those diagram things.”

Yuuri peered over Victor’s shoulder, leaning on one arm with his hand placed to the right of Victor’s keyboard. He squinted lightly at the screen and hummed, non-committal, at the back of this throat. The figures on the screen were mostly personnel expenses, and it suddenly struck him that his was rather delicate knowledge for him to have. Of course, being Chris’ personal secretary he would be privy to exclusive inside information but it had never occurred to him until now that this could also mean an advantage over so many of the people he considered dear and cherished colleagues.

“Do we…” Yuuri cleared his throat, suddenly hoarse with anticipation. “Do we need to cut back? Let people go?” The thought had never really occurred to him. They were doing well, hadn’t Chris just said so at the quarterly meeting?

“Not as long as I have anything to say about it.” Victor sounded confident. Like the kind of superior who knows exactly what to say to make his employees feel safe.

“Why don’t I do this for you and you have a break and eat something?” Yuuri offered. The bar chart currently on screen was missing the second row of figures as well as the year dates he guessed were supposed to be shown by the X axis.

He felt Victor go still beside him while he tried not to notice the warm, musky scent of his perfume.

“Really?” The question was quiet, almost as if Victor couldn’t believe that Yuuri would really do this.

“Of course.” Yuuri stood up straight and stepped back a little to let Victor get up. He tried a smile.

“You’ll be here for another three weeks if you keep up your pointless fight with Excel.”

“Okay.” Victor pushed out his chair and rose, chuckling. “Fair enough. I’ll just go wash my hands.”

While he was out of the room, Yuuri let his eyes wander through Victor’s office. He had never really been in here, he realized, only looked in from either the hall or the conference room which had an adjoining door. Victor’s office was the complete opposite of Chris’, less pomp, less oppressive dark and heavy wood. It had a light and modern touch. The furniture was kept to a minimum of desk, chair, and filing cabinets that were no higher than waist-high but stretched along more wall space instead. The cream-coloured cotton sofa with the small glass coffee table was the only luxury Victor had opted for, furniture-wise. 

There were two picture frames sitting on his desk, and while Yuuri’s heart skipped a beat in his chest at the prospect at finding a much pondered over question answered at last, disappointment seeped in almost immediately. One frame held a picture of Makkachin. The other picture frame, landscape format and classy silver, showed a glossy blow-up of an image Yuuri was very familiar with. He saw it every time he opened his drawer at home where he kept important papers like his work contract and lease agreement. The magazine was still there, still on top, having gotten a little dog-eared over time, but still flipped open to the picture of the young woman lifted up by three young men to hold her horizontally in front of them, all of them laughing like they were ready for the bright future ahead of them. To think that Yuuri knew three out of the four people in this picture now, was even friends with them. To think that Victor would have _this_ picture framed on his desk!

Yuuri stepped away from Victor’s desk and explored some more. The reason why Victor’s office didn’t appear cold or sterile was the assembly of trinkets set out on the polished cabinet tops. There were several sets of Russian dolls, all lined up from biggest to smallest, one classical and some special ones, among them a row of penguins, one of Russian presidents, and one dressed in blue roses with their cute faces peeking out. There were paperweights and weird rocks, an Indian elephant, something that looked like a drop of oil enclosed in glass with the name of a company in the UAE. A small woodcarving of a poodle that looked uncannily like Makkachin. A Fabergé egg Yuuri hoped to god wasn’t real. A miniature piñata. He could see the bottle of whiskey the Japanese ladies had brought for Victor and assumed that many of those trinkets were gifts from business partners.

The walls were bare except for two large picture frames. Yuuri stood for a moment in front of the painting above the couch, a Russian winter scene as he guessed from the furry hats on the people and the onion domes of a small church in the background. A lone skater in what looked like a purple coat was caught in the beginning of a spin on a frozen pond below trees bowing under the weight of snow.

The other picture frame in the room was bigger. Much bigger. It was hung right in the centre of the wall opposite Victor’s desk, above the cabinets with the assorted trinkets, so that he would see it every time he looked up from his desk. It was a collage of many photos. Yuuri recognised some faces. Chris and Sara. Yūko and Takeshi, her with one triplet on her hips and Takeshi with the other two. Lawrence, looking twenty years younger out of his security guard’s uniform, smiling into the camera side by side with Victor with a bottle of beer in his hands. Seung-gil, shooting daggers at the camera because he was snapped right at the moment he was biting into a sausage. Phichit and Leo, dancing arm and arm on a table. And so many more of their colleagues, of all ages, all departments. Children - smiling through animals painted on their faces, smiling with mouths smeared with ice-cream or ketchup, laughing barefoot in mid-air in a bouncy castle. It was summer in the background of every single picture. Everyone was laughing, dancing, having fun. In a white space right in the middle, the year was written in large, bold numbers. The previous year, Yuuri noted.

“I change it every year.”

Yuuri swung around when he heard Victor’s voice from the door.

Victor was leaning in the door frame, his bangs falling slightly wet into his forehead. He must have run cold water over his face, Yuuri thought.

“Is that last year’s summer party?” Yuuri asked. He had heard the stories, of course, how much of a favourite it was with the employees, though unfortunately he had only missed it so far.

“My favourite work event.” Smiling, Victor pushed himself off the door and came to stand beside Yuuri in front of the picture. “We have a big summer party every year, for our employees. They can bring their families, andthere’s food, and dancing, and lots of stuff for the kids. It’s just so much fun.”

“You _really_ like it.” Yuuri had often noticed how much Victor cared about the people working for him, and he couldn’t help but smile now at the giddy joy Victor suddenly displayed.

Victor nodded, head tilted and beaming smile on his face. “It’s my favourite day. And I put my favourite pictures of the event in the frame every year.”

Yuuri tried not to notice the faint pink blush on Victor’s cheek. He probably knew what a silly, extremely cheesy thing to do this was, but he seemed genuinely happy about it.

“You should eat,” he reminded Victor gently.

“Right.” Tearing his gaze away from Yuuri, Victor headed over to the sofa and sat down by the glass table.

“Yuuri!” He looked up after giving the different kinds of vegetables the once-over.

“Just open that box there for the meat and rice,” Yuuri said because he wasn’t sure he was ready for another one of Victor’s enthusiastic exclamations. He went back to Victor’s desk and sat down in the chair, sliding closer to the screen. 

“Yuuri! It’s still hot!” Victor marvelled.

Yuuri grinned and looked up briefly. “I should hope so, I paid a bloody fortune for that box just because it can do that.”

He focussed on the figures on screen then, asking Victor a question sometimes regarding details as he cleaned up tables and inserted charts, formatted, added details and captions. He tried not to pay attention as to the meaning of the figures, though he couldn’t help but notice of course that some of them were incomes of individual people or pay brackets that he neither should nor wished to know about.

“Yuuri.”

Glancing up, Yuuri found Victor looking at him quite seriously, chopsticks mid-air.

“You do know that this is—“

“Confidential.” Yuuri cut him off. “Of course.”

Victor nodded. To Yuuri he seemed both relieved as well as slightly uncomfortable for having felt the need to mention it as if he didn’t trust Yuuri.

“Just eat, Victor,” Yuuri told him with a faint smile. “It’s okay to take a little break, you know.”

His concentration returned back to the numbers, and for a while he worked in silence, the only sound in the room the happy little sounds Victor made because he clearly enjoyed the Korean food.

“Vicchan, stop begging for scraps!” Yuuri said unexpectedly without averting his eyes from the screen. “And _you_ stop feeding him, Victor, that’s _your_ food!”

“Yuuuuuri, how did you even…” Yuuri was sure Victor was pouting just from the sound of his voice alone. It was the voice of someone caught out.

“I can see you from the corner of my eye,” Yuuri replied, unmoved, eyes firmly on the screen as he rearranged some tables so that he could do the bar charts with just a couple of mouse clicks.

“Besides, I know you.” He felt a light blush come to his cheeks. “Both of you.”

He couldn’t understand what Victor muttered under his breath in Vicchan’s direction at that but he thought he could make out the worlds „your papa“ and „mean“. Smirking, Yuuri went back to work. He went through the whole of the report again after checking back with Victor whether it was okay, smoothing out bits and pieces.

“Done.” Yuuri made sure he had saved the file and pushed himself away from the desk.

“I don’t know about you but I could do with some coffee now,” Victor mused. He was lying back on the couch with Vicchan in his lap, looking fed and very tired.

Yuuri’s brows narrowed. “The food wasn’t too heavy, was it?”

Victor shook his head. “It was perfect, Yuuri. I don’t know how to thank you.”

“It’s past midnight, Victor. Are you sure you can’t finish this is the morning? You look really tired.”

“I’d rather finish it now and be done with it.” Victor heaved a sigh.

Yuuri rose from Victor’s desk chair, announcing that he would make some coffee.

“Instant is fine!” Victor called after him as Yuuri walked across the hall.

Yuuri rinsed the mug in the sink while he waited for the kettle to boil. When he came back with a steaming mug of coffee, Victor was back at his desk. Yuuri walked back around it and placed the coffee carefully in front of Victor, in a safe distance from anything that could upset it.

“Thank you, Yuuri.” He could hear the smile in Victor’s voice.

“That picture there…” Yuuri gave the faintest nod at the larger of the two picture frames. “I’ve been keeping that article in my desk since the day the magazine came out. I’ve always felt so inspired by it, by that picture, by the four of you. You looked ready to take on the world.”

“We felt like it, too.” Victor laughed softly. “It took forever to take that picture. Mickey was making such a fuss about Chris and me touching Sara in what he thought were inappropriate places. Sara kept yelling at him in Italian, and Chris and I went outside to smoke. Burnt a hole into Chris’ suit, which pissed him off because the clothes were only given to us for the photo shoot and then he had to pay for his. But I’ve always thought it was worth all the trouble, I love this picture.”

Yuuri stepped away from Victor’s desk again, wanting to let him get on with his work. While the typing resumed he wandered over to the filing cabinets again to look at Victor’s collection of trinkets. One closer inspection, he now spotted what he had failed to see before: a very fine coat of dust had gathered on most of them. He couldn’t resist picking up one of the Russian dolls painted with blue roses at random.

“Georgi used to take care of them for me.” Behind him, the typing stopped. “I’m afraid they’ve gathered a little dust without him.”

Yuuri wiped a thin layer of dust very carefully from the small blue matryoshka’s head before he put her back in her spot between her sisters.

“Is Georgi okay?” he asked without turning around and reached for the next blue matryoshka in line. “I don’t mean to pry, I know it’s not my business, but… he’s been off sick so long, I’ve been worried it’s something… serious?”

Yuuri turned around at that, looking at Victor across the room.

“It is, and at the same time it’s not.” Victor smiled faintly. “I’m sure you’re not one to take part in gossip, Yuuri, but before you hear crap about Gosha from someone else I might as well tell you.” He rubbed his brow with one finger.

“What Georgi has is… a broken heart.” He looked at Yuuri like he was daring him to believe him.

“Okay…” Yuuri said, carefully. He looked at the Russian doll in his hand, wiped the head clean and put it back. He reached for the next one, deciding to keep himself busy while Victor talked.

“He fell madly in love with Anya.”

“Leonova? From marketing?” Looking over his shoulder, he saw Victor nod.

Yuuri tried to remember the few times he had encountered Anya. “She’s very pretty. But also… cold?”

“You’re being very kind, Yuuri. She’s a nasty piece of work. She’s cruel, calculating, malicious. But Georgi, he didn’t see all that. He has the softest heart you can imagine. When he’s in love, he becomes blind, and like a stubborn child having to let go of his favourite toy when you criticise the person he loves. I’m not sure how well or how badly she treated him but he loved her with all his heart, turned a blind eye on her shortcomings. I’ve known Gosha for a long time, but I’ve never seen him so very much in love. He was ready and willing to give her everything. He planned the most romantic proposal, roses, champagne, hundreds of candles… went down on one knee and proposed with his grandmother’s engagement ring, a much loved and valuable family heirloom.”

Victor gave a short hollow laugh. “Anya threw the ring at his feet and laughed in his face, asked him how he dared to believe that she would ever marry someone like him, how he dared to present her with something so cheap and ancient when she deserved so much better.”

“That’s awful!” Yuuri exclaimed, outraged.

“That’s Anya,” Victor said, voice bitter. “It destroyed Georgi. He’s been struggling with depression since then, and he feels ashamed. He’s firmly convinced everyone’s talking behind his back and laughing at him. I keep telling him that’s not the case, but… I know Anya’s been spreading lies about him, too, and I wouldn’t put it past her to let them get to Gosha somehow.”

“She’s still strutting around like she owns the place,” Yuuri murmured.

“Sadly one cannot fire people for breaking someone’s heart, and she’s also really good at her job, or I would have kicked her out a while ago.” Victor sounded frustrated.

“Victor.” Yuuri turned to face him again. “If there’s anything I can do… I mean, of Georgi’s jobs that the trainees can’t or won’t do - I’d be happy to help. If Chris doesn’t mind, though I don’t think he will if it doesn’t interfere with my work for him.”

“Thank you, Yuuri.” Victor seemed genuinely grateful. His eyes fell on Yuuri’s hands and he smiled.

Following his gaze, Yuuri saw he had picked up the wood-carved Makkachin. He smiled, too.

“So where’s Makka today?” he asked, softly wiping the wooden head clean before placing it back in the cabinet. “You seem to have been here almost all day.”

“She’s at home.” Victor’s reply was matter-of-fact, and very gentle.

The smile hurt in the corners of Yuuri’s mouth. Of course. He nodded, very much to himself, and pulled his hands back from the assorted trinkets. He very nearly placed one hand on his stomach as if to keep in the dread that had started to leap and bounce. Victor wouldn’t leave Makka alone for hours. The man paid a dog sitter to look after her when he was at work. Makka being at home meant there was _someone_ with her. It’s good, Yuuri told himself. This was exactly the kind of information he needed. This was exactly what he’d been telling Phichit only this morning. It seemed an eternity ago now.

“It’s late.” Yuuri finally turned around, smile still in place. "I’d better go home and get some sleep.”

He walked back over to the sofa and paused mid-movement when he saw that Victor had already assembled the empty plates with the chopsticks and fork lying neatly on top. He had also put the bento box back together and placed it on top of Yuuri’s backpack. It made getting ready to leave so much quicker. He chased Vicchan over to Victor to say goodbye while he put his jacket back on and slipped his backpack over his shoulders.

“Get some sleep too, Victor.” Yuuri tried to sound cheerful. “See you tomorrow.”

“Goodnight, Yuuri. And thank you so much for feeding me and coming by with Vicchan.” Victor smiled.

Yuuri made a non-committal hum and leaned down to clip Vicchan’s leash on. They were half out the door already when Victor said his name again. Yuuri turned around.

“Yuuri…” Victor said once more and rubbed his tired eyes.

Yuuri paused in the door, gripping the leash a little tighter because Vicchan tried to bolt off down the hallway.

“Can I come to Bollywood night on Friday? I need a distraction from all this.” Victor nodded at his desk.

Victor had missed the past couple of Bollywood nights, and strangely enough, all of them, not just Yuuri, had missed his company too. He dared say even the dogs had missed Makkachin.

“Of course.” Yuuri smiled. “I’m going to pick a good movie for you!”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Victor arrived in the middle of another coriander and papadum crisis, when Phichit realised it had been his turn to do the shopping and he couldn’t even blame someone else for forgetting the essentials.

“Guys! We‘re saved! Victor‘s brought some,” Leo announced from the door and took the shopping bag Victor was holding out to him.

“You’re always out, aren’t you?” Victor laughed as he toed off his shoes. “I figured it couldn’t hurt to bring extra.” He unclipped Makkachin’s leash and she bolted off into the living room, enthusiastically greeting everyone.

“Oh thank god!” Yuuri exclaimed. “Peach was getting far too hysterical with that granite pestle in his hand.”

He walked a couple of steps out of the kitchen into the living room just as Victor stepped in from the small entry.

“Hi.” Yuuri smiled.

“Hi.” Victor smiled back. “I’m looking forward to that movie you picked, Yuuri.”

“It will cheer you up. It’s comedy, action, and all the exaggeration of Bollywood rolled into one.”

“Yuuri, I don’t think I’ve ever heard you talk to enthusiastically about a movie before.” Victor winked.

“Oh, this is Yuuri’s feel-good movie.” Guang Hong looked up from moving plates of food around on the coffee table to make room for more. “You look tired, Victor. Just sit down and cuddle a dog.” He called Shi over, and a moment later Victor was seated in his by now usual armchair with the white Spitz in his lap.

Yuuri brought over some beer, poured Victor a glass and called Vicchan before he disappeared in the kitchen again. By the time he came back with Phichit and the usual papadum tower and green chutney, Vicchan had joined Shi in Victor’s lap. Makka was sitting beside the armchair, head on the armrest.

“Yuuri, do you want to make a little speech about the movie we’re about to watch?” Phichit teased with the remote control poised above his head, but Yuuri threatened him with the sofa cushion, and Phichit started the movie.

_[The movie tells the story of a diamond heist that is planned by a group of friends around a guy called Charlie. Charlie’s father built safes and vaults by profession and was screwed over by a renowned businessman named Grover, who drugged Charlie’s father and used his fingerprints to steal his own diamonds, framing Charlie’s father for it. Charlie wants revenge for his father and plans to steal diamonds from Grover in return and frame Grover for it. He recruits two of his closest friends who were also close to his father - an ex army captain named Jag who is the strongman of the group, and a fifty-year-old safecracker named Tammy, the stud all the ladies in his neighbourhood crush on and who suffers epileptic seizures when stressed that last exactly 30 seconds. Next they recruit Jag’s nephew Rohan, a cute boy with no friends in real life who is actually a class A hacker.]_

“How are the hackers always the cutest boys?” Leo asked, the amusement very audible.

“I don’t know, Leo, _you_ tell us!” Phichit replied with a snort.

Guang Hong blushed profusely and tried to hide his face behind a papadum.

_[The diamonds they want to steal are kept in the Shalimar safe in the Atlantis Hotel in Dubai. Only one person is able to open the door to the safe with his fingerprint - Grover’s son, Vikki. Charlie recruits Nandu, a drunkard who looks exactly like Vikki Grover. The vault can be accessed through an abandoned AC duct that leads to one of the rooms in the hotel. However, the room is pre-booked with a contingent of rooms used as changing rooms for participants of the World Dance Championship that takes place in the Atlantis Hotel. Charlie’s plan is for them take part in the contest as Team India because Rohan will hack the voting in the Indian preliminaries and redirect all votes to them. They will only need to do a little dancing to convince the jury that lets the best teams move into a final round where people can vote for them. As soon as the gang hears that Charlie wants them to dance in that competition, they leave.]_

Yuuri leaned over to Victor. “The director of this is one of the biggest and best choreographers in Bollywood,” he said low under his voice. “All her movies are over the top, and she has a wicked sense of humour.”

“I can see that,” Victor grinned and nodded at the screen. He looked relaxed, and Yuuri felt glad.

_[Charlie manages to convince them to stay by sharing the whole story of how his father was screwed over and framed by Grover and how Grover also blackmailed the authorities so that all appeals Charlie’s father tried for a fair hearing led to nothing and kept him imprisoned. They stay, wanting to help avenge Charlie’s father. Because they have a jury to pass in order to be even in the voting, they grumpily agree to learn how to dance. Comic moments ensue as they try to learn to dance from several teachers beside preparing their diamond heist. It’s clear that they are hopeless at dancing and will never move up in the national preliminaries to become Team India. Until Nandu suggests that if they want to dance, they need to learn it from someone who really knows how to dance.]_

“My favourite actress is coming up now,” Yuuri told Victor quietly. He guessed his excitement was probably obvious, but then he remembered what _exactly_ was coming up, and hastened to add, “But this is not really the right song to show why she’s my favourite actress!”

_[Nandu takes Charlie to meet Mohini, a friend of his who is a bar dancer in quite a tacky establishment with lots of gold curtains and stages where skimpily clad girls dance for the enjoyment of male patrons. The first footage of her shows her kneeling with her upper body bent all the way back. She raises her upper body slowly off of the floor in gyrating movements. One can seea very flat toned stomach, something that looks like a golden bikini adorned with sequins. She moves her upper body once in a sensuous circle, long hair swaying around her shoulders, the movement coming from her hips. In the next shot she stands and one can see that she is actually wearing a ‘skirt’ but it’s basically tatters of gold running down her legs to give the impression of a skirt or wide pants. Her fluid movements remind a little of belly dancing, flowing, sinuous moves with her body in constant motion, and then she’s picking up the pounding beat of the song with the movement of her hips and upper body.]_

“I see.”

Yuuri buried his face in his palms when he heard Victor’s voice. Victor didn’t try to be quiet, and the amusement was clearly audible.

“I said this is not the right song to show off why I like her,” Yuuri mumbled though his fingers and peeked out between them.

“No, no, Yuuri, it’s okay. I can see why you like her. She’s very beautiful. _Very_ hot.” Victor had a wicked grin on his face.

Yuuri groaned into his hands. He knew that Phichit, Leo and Guang Hong were having the time of their lives right now, he could hear them snickering above the music and Victor’s voice.

“And very… skimpily dressed.” Victor went on teasing.

Yuuri rolled his eyes. On screen Deepika Padukone was dancing on the pole of a moving carousel in a bikini-like top with tassels and a green floor-length ‘skirt’ that was slit open on every leg right up to the top of her thighs. All her outfits in this song were like this, a little daring for Bollywood, showing off a lot of stomach and hips and legs, and yet she never looked vulgar.

“Wow!” Victor exclaimed when there was yet another outfit change. “She’s dressed in more cloth than before yet looks even more naked!”

Yuuri rolled his eyes. On screen, Deepika was dancing in a glittering silver wrap-around that left her left leg completely bare. The equally glittery bikini-like top had two rows of chains attached at the bottom which moved over her taut stomach when she moved. And Victor was right, there was something about this very ensemble that made her seem more naked in this than in the other skimpy outfits. Her midriff she was currently undulating in a flowing movement seemed much barer than in all the other scenes.

Yuuri heaved a sigh when the song came to an end, and Victor kept chuckling beside him. Until Deepika appeared on screen fully dressed and the chuckling stopped abruptly. Yuuri grinned gleefully when he heard the faint, barely audible gasp from Victor.

_[Mohini turns Nandu’s offer down. She says dance is art, not a means to an end. Charlie apologises in English for disturbing her and thanks her for her time. In the voice-over, Charlie’s voice is heard saying that there are two things one should know about Mohini: she loves the English language, and she doesn’t speak English. After meeting Charlie and hearing from Nandu that she will be teaching Charlie too, Mohini agrees to teach them. The next morning, Charlie gives the gang a pep talk about how they should forget that Mohini is nothing but a low bar dancer, that they should regard her as their teacher, despite her being cheap and tacky and dancing in front of men for money. What he doesn’t know is that Mohini is standing right behind him and hears every word.]_

“What the hell…” Yuuri heard Victor muttering beside him. He just grinned smugly to himself, knowing Victor had just realised that Deepika’s true appeal unfolded when she was not half naked.

_[Mohini tells Charlie that she has been dancing in front of drunk strangers for two years but nobody has ever made her feel as cheap as Charlie just did with his words.]_

“He better speak English now or he can bugger right off!” Victor said passionately.

Everyone laughed at his outburst, especially as the very same advice was given on-screen at that moment though perhaps not quite as colourful.

_[Charlie follows Mohini outside, with Nandu calling after him to apologise in English. His speech is interspersed with a lot of deliberately mispronounced words added for extra comic effect. He tells her that they are all a bunch of losers and will never win that competition without her help, pleading her not to turn them down. Mohini says “No”.]_

“No.” Victor sounded as crestfallen as Charlie looked on screen.

_[It turns out that what sounds like “no” actually means “nine” in Mohini’s dialect, indicating that practice started at nine and that they’re wasting time talking. Charlie is relieved she’s forgiven him and she tells him to get inside because practise has started five minutes ago and she hates lateness. Mohini smiles, and the first tender sparks of attraction blossom between them.]_

“See, this smile there!” Yuuri leaned over to Victor as he spoke. He knew he sounded smug and a little excited. “This is why she is my favourite actress. And that song now.”

_[A slow song starts, showing Mohini teaching the gang how to dance, and all of them being together like a family, with Mohini looking after them like a sister. The chemistry between Mohini and Charlie is incredible, and the theme of them setting something on fire every time they touch becomes a running gag not just throughout the song but also throughout the rest of the movie.]_

“Oh!” Victor leaned forward in his seat, arms around the dogs so they wouldn’t fall off. “How they look at each other! They are in love!”

“Gee, I wonder who we know in real life who looks at each other like this,” Phichit muttered pointedly.

Leo reached down from the couch and slapped the back of his head to shut him up. Guang Hong cast a stolen glance at Yuuri and Victor and smiled enigmatically into his drink.

_[‘Teem Dimonds’, as Mohini stitches their team name on tacky golden capes in her bad English, moves on the Indian preliminaries on the grounds of a video Rohan found through hacking. It shows both the male judges cross-dressing and dancing together in overtly sexy motions while they’re taking their clothes off. Charlie mentions putting the video up on YouTube and the judges let them pass. Their dance at the preliminaries is atrocious, but they get the most votes thanks to Rohan’s hacking and go to Dubai as Team India in the World Dance Championship.]_

“That’s actually really sweet.” Victor pointed at the screen, where Charlie was watching his gang happily dancing and goofing around because they were overjoyed at having won the competition, despite not quite legally. “Way to go, team-building exercises.”

Yuuri grinned quietly behind his hand.

_[After the intermission, Team India arrives in Dubai and is met with a lot of disdain, especially by the Indian population. The clear favourite is Team Korea, who are very disciplined and antisocial. On the way up to their rooms, Team India ends up sharing a lift with Team Korea, who are not happy about company. Everyone is quiet, until Charlie addresses the youngest member of Team Korea in Korean, a boy named Oro as Charlie finds out. The Korean team leader yells “No talking!” in Korean and all the Koreans stand to attention. Charlie asks Oro in Korean why his team leader is so serious and Oro giggles. The team leader yells “No laughing!” in Korean. The gang wants to know what he said, so Charlie translates for them and they all start laughing.]_

“God, it’s like being in the lift with Seung-gil,” Victor said drily.

Everyone started laughing. Nobody disagreed.

_[In their hotel room Charlie announces to the gang that he doesn’t want Nandu and Mohini to come to the banquet in the evening because they are not refined enough. Nandu and Mohini overhear, again, but while Nandu is angry Mohini tells him that Charlie is right - she is just a bar dancer and Nandu is a drunkard. Later Jag comforts Mohini and excuses Charlie’s behaviour. Mohini confides in Jag that she wants to be respected and loved and treated well like any woman, that she never dreamed of becoming a bar dancer, and that she, too, would have loved to go to an English school and enjoyed proper education if it hadn’t been for her family’s financial problems. Jag comforts her and tells her that Charlie doesn’t know how to talk to women and that she is the first woman Charlie really likes. He tells her that Charlie is an idiot in love matters and deaf to his own heart’s calling, but that Mohini can make him hear by exploding a bomb - a Mohini bomb.]_

“Of course she can!” Victor said passionately.

“That’s Yuuri’s text,” Guang Hong commented drily.

Yuuri blushed.

_[At the banquet that night the music suddenly stops and Mohini appears at the top of a grand staircase looking absolutely stunning in a blue mermaid style_ lehenga _, a wide, ankle-length skirt with multiple layers and golden embroidery. She wears it with a spaghetti strapped blouse that leaves her midriff bare, and a blue_ dupatta _around her neck.]_

“Wow! I’m falling in love with this girl!” Victor shot forward in his seat again. “She’s wonderful!”

“Told you.” Yuuri grinned, but he looked pleased.

“You’ll have to get past Yuuri, though I guess he might share with you,” Phichit looked back over his shoulder at Victor, huge cheeky grin on his face.

“Peach!” Yuuri tried to kick at him but his leg couldn’t quite reach. “You‘ll have to get past her boyfriend more likely.”

“Of course.” Phichit rolled his eyes. “I forgot you actually ship her with her boyfriend like a normal person.”

“Who’s the boyfriend?” Victor leaned over to Yuuri, eyes on the screen. “Is he worthy?”

“Another Bollywood actor. Totally worthy, he’s the best!” Yuuri assured him. “I’ll tell you after.”

_[During the semi final Team India has a dance-off with Team Korea. The Koreans’ human pyramid sways and Oro, the youngest, tumbles down from the very top when his foot slips off another boy’s shoulder. Charlie catches him and prevents him from falling onto some sharp-edges crystal decorations on stage. Normally the loser of the semi finale dance battle is out of the tournament right away but Team India receives a Wild Card to move on to the finale to honour what Charlie did for another team by saving Oro. It ties in with their diamond heist because the arrival of the diamonds has been postponed until the day of the finale.]_

“Didn’t the sign with that woman’s name say ‘Russia’?” Victor frowned at the screen, where a red-haired woman, whose name tag on the jury table definitely made her out to represent Russia, makes the announcement about the Wild Card for Team India in the poshest British English.

“That’s Bollywood for you,” Leo remarked. “We’re not here for the correctness of facts.”

Victor laughed.

_[Everyone loves Team India after Charlie’s heroic deed. They are shown around Dubai and treated as heroes everywhere.]_

“Oh look, Leo, that’s where we went skating!” Guang Hong pointed at the screen, where an ice-rink inside a shopping mall was currently seen. “We haven’t watched this movie since we’ve actually _been_ there!”

“You’ve been to Dubai?” Victor asked, smiling at Guang Hong.

“Yeah, Leo took me on a surprise trip on our first anniversary.” Guang Hong sighed, cheeks pink. “We had the best time! Oh look! We actually sat in a restaurant right there! I could have watched the fountain display all night.”

On screen, Team India was looking at the Dubai Fountain while a huge poster of them was rolled out on the outer front of the Burj Khalifa.

“The Lebanese restaurant?” Victor asked. “I love that. The food is amazing.”

“And smoking a hookah afterwards, with that view…” Leo actually sighed. “That was a good date, babe. Even though we couldn’t make it look like one. It was a perfect evening.”

“The best.” Guang Hong smiled and snuggled back into his boyfriend’s arms.

Yuuri had watched the exchange with a wistful smile on his lips, remembering Leo and Guang Hong telling him about how they had had to move around Dubai like friends rather than lovers, that public display of affection was not permitted even to heterosexual couples. And they still had the best memories of their trip. He was tempted to wonder who Victor had gone to Dubai with, but then one of his favourite moments of the movie was coming up and he refused to miss that.

_[The day ends in a club, where Mohini dances with Vikki Grover, thinking he is Nandu. Charlie hates to see Mohini dancing with another man, and Tammy rubs salt in the wound by saying “Look at how that moron’s dancing. He has what should be yours.” Charlie steps onto the dance floor, taps Vikki’s arm and motions for him to bugger off with a pointed glare. The glass in Tammy’s hand goes up in flames when Charlie and Mohini’s eyes meet and he takes her hand and pulls her close against his body into dance. The music has changed to a club version of their love theme, and while everyone else around them is still moving fast and wildly, the two of them are almost still in each other’s arms. They are moving to their own song as they hold each other in their arms, look at each other like two people very much in love. They bring their faces close together, foreheads touching, dancing cheek to cheek, deep gazes sinking into each other.]_

Yuuri couldn’t help the sigh that escaped his mouth. He saw Victor turn his head towards him from the corner of his eye but he didn’t avert his eyes from the screen, this scene was already so short.

“Peach?” Yuuri said carefully.

“Yeah, yeah…” Phichit’s smirk was audible as he rewound the movie just a little bit to the club scene.

Yuuri was absolutely sure he could hear Victor almost sigh “Her smile!” at one point , and Yuuri smiled too, because Mohini’s smile, when Charlie finally takes her in his arms, was one of his favourite moments in the whole movie.

_[The gang finally induct Mohini in their plan, and she is angry at first, asking what Charlie’s father will say to his son joining him in prison. Charlie reveals then that his father committed suicide in prison when he lost all hope of ever receiving a fair treatment due to Grover blackmailing lawyer and judges. It makes everyone’s resolve to avenge him even stronger.]_

“Oh no! He’s _dead_??!!”

Yuuri silently passed Victor the tissues.

_[Mohini helps the diamond heist by distracting Vikki Grover while Nandu takes his place and opens the door to the vault with a copy of his fingerprint they took from him when they drugged him. They successfully steal the diamonds but Rohan and Mohini refuse to run as planned when they see how many people have come to see them dance in the finale. Mohini says she cannot let these people down because while one can suffer defeat, one should never throw away one’s dignity. A fight breaks out among the gang when Tammy also wants to stay behind with Rohan and Mohini. A very unhappy Tammy is seen leaving on a boat with the rest of the gang, while Rohan returns to the hotel and Mohini.]_

“They’re coming back, right??” Victor’s head whipped round towards Yuuri. “Don’t tell me they’re leaving them behind!”

Yuuri just smiled and reached out to give Victor a reassuring pat on his upper arm.

_[Grover suspects that Team India has stolen the diamonds. The owners of the diamonds are calling the police on him. On stage, the music starts and Mohini dances. Grover hopes that the fact that it’s only her proves that the men have taken off with his diamonds. The second part of the performance starts, and much to Mohini’s surprise, all the guys except for Charlie are in their designated spots to dance their routine with her. Rohan runs in from the sidelines and they do the second part of their routine.]_

Victor laughed out loud.

“All this time their dancing and their costumes were terrible and now everything is amazing. I love this!” He laughed harder. “The costume changes in the blink of an eye!”

“And the musicians! Where do they suddenly come from?” Phichit shook his head. “They never ever practised all this, yet here we are.”

_[The crowd goes wild as the second part of their performance ends. Everyone is cheering, and calling out for Charlie. Mohini looks at Tammy in question, asking whether Charlie has also come back with them, but he shakes his head. Suddenly Charlie’s voice is heard through the loudspeakers, and one can see his silhouette stepping up towards a curtain that separates him from the stage. He makes a passionate speech about their homeland, and as dramatic music reaches a crescendo, the curtain falls.]_

“YES!!!” — “Fucking KING!”

Both Leo and Phichit freaked out a little at this moment, nearly jumping from their seats with winning fists punching in the air as Charlie stepped out onto the stage with much dramatic music and arm movements and the gang was crying as they ran up to him and had a group hug.

“Tissues!” Phichit demanded. Guang Hong handed them out as everybody was getting a little overwhelmed by laughing at the pathos while at the same time crying to see Charlie not letting the team down as they reunited.

_[Another costume change appears within the flash of an eye and they start the final part of their performance. Tammy’s seizures have been worked into their show as part of the choreography. There’s another moment of Charlie and Mohini lost in each other’s arms and eyes while the world around them is going ballistic.]_

Yuuri felt Victor’s eyes on him and turned his head. The expression in Victor’s eyes was unreadable and a small smile passed between them before Yuuri averted his gaze.

_[The movie ends happy, of course. Grover is in prison, the gang has the diamonds and the World Dance Championship trophy. Tammy is still the stud of his neighbourhood and throngs of ladies chase him with wedding wreaths. Jag returns to working on movies sets in charge of explosions and people left and right still go “Call me!” whenever his shirt comes off. Rohan has girls falling at his feet now and parties with a whole group of them in the back of a limousine, covered in lipstick marks. Mohini fulfils her dream of opening a ‘dence school’ for small girls and Charlie proposes to her with one of the diamonds turned into a ring. The end credits are a dance competition on its own as all the different departments involved in the making of the movie dance a routine each while the director judges.]_

“Has Sara seen this?” Victor pointed at the screen with glee. “This would make the quarterly meeting so much more fun!”

Leo laughed out loud. “Yeah, you, Chris and Sara could get those point cards and hold them up like judges.”

“Every department could just dance their revenues.” Victor laughed. “I’m so putting this on the agenda for our next meeting!”

Phichit turned around and threw a majestic glare in the round. “Like anyone would stand a chance against the newsroom.”

Everyone fell over laughing at his serious expression.

Later, Yuuri found himself seeing Victor and Makkachin off at the door. Phichit, Leo and Guang Hong had already disappeared behind the doors of their respective apartments like in a strange déjà vu of Victor’s first Bollywood night some weeks ago.

“Thank you so much, Yuuri.” Victor ran one hand through his hair. He looked less hassled than Yuuri had seen him in the office lately. Relaxed. Laughing had done him good. And still. Yuuri couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off about him. Something was missing. “I needed that.”

“Anytime.” Yuuri tried a smile but it stayed weak.

They looked at each other for a moment.

“Victor…”

Yuuri didn’t know what he’d wanted to say, really. Instead, he followed on impulse and gave Victor a hug.

Makka’s leash cut barely noticeably into him where Victor’s arms came around his waist. Feet inched closer, just the tiniest bit, and Yuuri’s arms slipped a little tighter around Victor’s back. He felt the weight of Victor’s face as it sank on his shoulder, the warmth of Victor’s breath through the cotton of his shirt, the pace of Victor’s breath against his chest where he held him.

Yuuri released his arms, and Victor followed suit, taking a step back out into the hallway.

“Yuuuuuuri…” Victor smiled, cheeks a strange pink colour, eyes dancing as if he wanted to ask where this had come from.

“It’s okay.” Yuuri scratched the back of his head, mildly called out. “You looked like you needed a hug.”

“Thank you.” Victor smiled. Heart-shaped. All the way up to his eyes.

“Goodnight, Yuuri.” Victor pulled lightly on the leash. “Come on, Makka. Time to go home.”

“Goodnight.” Yuuri didn’t wait until they were inside the lift down the hall.

He didn’t ask if they would see each other in the park with the dogs at the weekend. He gently closed his door and leaned with his back against the inside for the longest time, one thought only on his mind:

_Shit._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shit.


	5. The Italian Job

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri goes Business Trip! Beautiful places and even more beautiful food, secrets are spoken and left unspoken, and Victor makes good on a promise (or a threat).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter pays tribute to a lot of my favourite things in life and the world, and they are all connected to one place: one of my favourite cities, my favourite restaurant, my favourite place, my favourite ice-cream, my favourite tram rides. I hope I can do them justice. It's not one of the happiest places at the moment, but I still wanted to write this chapter as planned and show my love to this wonderful place.
> 
> There are also lots of Italian men in suits in this, and I named them all after my favourite football players. xD
> 
> I would like to dedicate this chapter to **InLoveWithYOI** and wish her happy birthday again - I hope you like this new chapter! <3

**5 – The Italian Job**

Yuuri shifted slightly in his seat. After more than four hours of sitting on a train he couldn’t deny his butt was beginning to protest despite the comfort of the wide leather seats in the first class carriage. He could approve of their choice of travel though. Going by train, much to Chris’ credit as Yuuri couldn’t deny even if he had wanted to, was a lot more environmentally friendly than flying. It tied in with the fervency with which Chris was pushing their organic products and the goal of a palm oil free production, and Yuuri couldn’t help but admire that. He hid his mouth behind his hand and stifled a yawn. The alarm had gone off much too early for his taste, but they had had to be on the first direct train to Milan for there was already a meeting scheduled for after lunch.

Looking up, he caught Victor’s glance and a small smile across the table between them. A folder of work papers lay open in front of Victor; he had been going over them for the last hour or so after he was done reading the complementary newspaper. Beside Victor, Chris was in the seat by the aisle, glad there was nobody sitting next to Yuuri in their four-seat arrangement with the table because it allowed him some room for his long legs without having to bother anyone. Chris was wearing his glasses, reading something on the laptop in front of him. Or perhaps watching Netflix, Yuuri wouldn’t put it past him. As Chris was wearing ear pods, there was no way to be sure. Yuuri had his phone and another free newspaper in front of him, next to the empty bento box he still needed to pack up again.

Despite knowing that there would be breakfast served in the onboard train restaurant and they wouldn’t even have to move and go there because travelling first class meant they were served at their seat, Yuuri had brought a bento. It just seemed the thing to do, and it was a dear tradition from home he didn’t want to give up. The moment Chris and Victor were served their own breakfast however, rice and pickled vegetables instantly lost their appeal at the mouth-watering scent of eggs and freshly baked croissants. After listlessly poking his food with his chopsticks and catching Victor’s envious glances at this bento more than once, Yuuri had finally sighed and pushed his bento towards Victor, who instantly burst into a huge heart-shaped smile and pushed his own plate across the table towards Yuuri in exchange. At the same time Chris had also been ogling Victor’s plate, which had not gone unnoticed by Yuuri either, so that in the end Yuuri traded the bacon and sausages from Victor’s breakfast for Chris’ French Toast, and Victor gave Chris some of the teriyaki salmon and pickled vegetables from Yuuri’s bento and took Chris’ muesli instead.

For most of the journey Yuuri had tried to read the paper, bumping legs with Victor occasionally under the table until they found a way to place their feet in a way that would allow both of them to stretch out their legs from time to time without bothering the other too much. Yuuri was very aware of Victor’s legs however, so close to his own that his knees brushed Victor’s if he moved too much, which had Yuuri muttering an apology whenever it happened and Victor smiling it off as he looked up briefly across the table.

It was quiet in first class, the odd hushed phone conversation here and there, railway staff coming by to check tickets or ask if anyone would like to order something from the restaurant. Voices lowered in conversations that eventually made way for naps or getting lost in a book or the appeals of a smartphone. The rustling of papers. The subtle typing on a notebook because a lot of businessmen travelled on the first train. He was one of them, Yuuri reminded himself from time to time, which filled him with a strange need to giggle and the wish to pinch himself. He wished someone had told his younger self, bent over his books all those long college nights of cramming in knowledge for upcoming tests, that this was in the future. Had calmed down his anxious self with the assurance that this day was waiting for him. He was suited up and sitting opposite his two bosses, two out of the four people in that magazine article that had driven him on for years. They were immaculately dressed in suit and tie, like they had been in those photos, and like they always were. He was on a business trip, and the thought made him suppress a grin or at least hide it behind his hand as he pretended to be reading the paper or doing something on his phone. Once he caught Victor looking at him and felt caught out. Victor had looked at him for one very long, very amused moment, and Yuuri had felt himself blushing and hidden his face behind the paper. He could have sworn he hard a very quiet chuckle across the table.

For a long time Yuuri had been staring out the window, distracted by the stunning Swiss mountains, lakes with the surface glistening in the sunlight. He had tried to take pictures but all those snapshots through a train window couldn’t capture the beauty.

They arrived almost on time and made their way through the throng of people on the platforms and through a security gate, down a huge and wide staircase until they reached the high-ceilinged hall where tourists and locals hastened by or stopped right in someone else’s way, carrying or pushing luggage between shops and workman trying to fix a broken escalator to the lower levels. Yuuri just used Victor’s hair as a landmark as he followed him and Chris towards one of the exits. He could already guess at the heat that was hitting Milan in early summer. It felt a little like he was walking towards a sauna. The sunlight was blinding as they stepped out of the station. Yuuri enjoyed a brief comical moment when Victor and Chris whipped out their sunglasses and put them on almost simultaneously like a well-practised choreography.

Yuuri had been surprised he hadn’t had to arrange for a car to pick them up from the station but Victor had assured him they always stayed in the same hotel for their Milan trips and it was in walking distance. That didn’t stop Chris from sputtering curses incessantly, complaining about the heat, the dirt on the street, his sunglasses sitting too tight. Yuuri couldn’t see Victor’s eyes behind his sunglasses but from the very faint sneer curling his mouth Yuuri was sure he was rolling them behind the black shades.

“I don’t understand why we cannot get a taxi with all this luggage and in this heat!” Chris complained.

Yuuri kept his eyes on the ground. His suitcase might have been a little smaller than Victor or Chris’, yet each of them had exactly one of those to wheel along plus a smaller messenger bag or briefcase each.

“We are crossing _three streets_ , Chris!” Victor replied patiently, though Yuuri was sure he heard him sigh.

The building looked impressive from across the street as they waited at the last traffic light. Yuuri couldn’t really savour it though because too many impressions were assaulting his senses all at once. The heat reminded him a little of the summers at home in Hasetsu, all the way to the uncomfortable feeling it gave him having to wear a dark suit in it. The sunlight was extra bright, the traffic heaving, loud and pungent. Voices were everywhere, several languages all at once. The lights turned green for them, and Yuuri shot a glare at a car whose driver was honking impatiently as if he wanted to ask how they dared cross the street when he wanted to pass, no matter that the lights were red for him.

The drop in temperature was acute as soon as they stepped through the revolving door into an air-conditioned lobby that was almost all marble. Yuuri didn’t have much time to look around though because a young man was already hurrying towards them with open arms.

His name tag made him out to be the concierge though he looked more like a suited up football player in his black three-piece ensemble.

“Chris! Welcome back!” He went straight to hug Chris, his English carrying that melodic Italian accent that tended to add an ‚e‘ sound to words.

“Paolo!” Two blond heads were stuck close together as they embraced, and Yuuri cast Victor a look of slight embarrassment. Victor just rolled his eyes and shrugged, visibly embarrassed himself on Chris’ behalf.

Yuuri was pleasantly surprised to hear their rooms were ready. Check-in time wasn’t until 3 in the afternoon though he guessed the rules weren’t quite so strict for Chris. He wheeled his suitcase towards the lift as soon as very handsome Paolo had personally handed him his keycard, not wanting to stay around and watch Chris make a fool of himself in the lobby of a five-star-hotel. Victor followed him inside the lift and left his foot in the lift door for a moment, looking around the door to wait for Chris.

“Will you need help with your luggage, Chris?” they heard Paolo ask in his accented English.

“I wouldn’t mind if you could help me get it up,” came Chris’ reply.

An enervated look passed between Yuuri and Victor. Like on a silent agreement, Victor took his foot out the door the same moment that Yuuri pressed the button to close the lift doors.

When Yuuri dragged his suitcase into his room a short time later, a bout of hysterical laughter bubbled from his mouth. He closed the door behind him, took off his shoes in the small entry, and stepped into the living room. The _living_ room! This was ridiculous. He wished Phichit was here.

He headed over to the doorway leading into the bedroom and laughed some more. The king-sized bed took up almost the whole bedroom. Yuuri took his phone from his back pocket and made a video call to Phichit.

“Yuuri!” Phichit beamed when his face appeared on screen. “How is Milan?”

“Peach, you wouldn’t believe this hotel. I just had to show you!” He turned his phone around and gave Phichit a virtual tour of his suite. “The lobby alone is like a museum!”

Phichit whistled approvingly through his teeth. “I have to make Sara let me come to Milan for _something_! You have a spa bath tub!”

“I also have a mini bar _and_ a mini refrigerator. I wish you were here, Peach!”

“I wish I was there, too!” Phichit sighed dramatically. “We would find a supermarket and stock that fridge with food and then lie on the bed and watch TV! Bring me a nice present, okay?” He was making grabby hands at the camera.

“Oi, Katsudon!” he heard a sharp voice from somewhere near Phichit. Yuri Plisetsky butted his way into view.He had taken to calling Yuuri ‘Katsudon’ after Yuuri had served it at their most recent Japanese night and Yuri had declared never having eaten anything so good, and that it would be the perfect way to call ‚the other Yuuri‘ so he wouldn’t have to call his own name and confuse everyone and himself. It was unanimously decided that night too that Yuri was to be called _Yura_ because everyone was getting fed up with the confusion.

“Bring me a present, too!”

“Down, Tiger. Interns don’t get presents. You have to earn that privilege.” Phichit yanked his phone away and Yura disappeared from view, though his gruff mumbling was still very much audible.

“Yuuri.” Phichit’s face was serious on the small screen. “Please jump on that bed for me. And be aware that I’m going to disown you if you don’t drink all the alcohol from the minibar and watch all the porn.”

“Right. I can already see myself explaining those kind of expenses to Seung-gil,” Yuuri deadpanned.

“Just tell him Chris ran up that bill.”

“He might run up his own.” Yuuri rolled his eyes. “Peach, if you had seen the way he was hitting on the concierge…” He pulled a disgusted face.

“You need to look at it in a more positive light - in a world of insecurities, it’s good to be able to rely on some things, Yuuri. Even if it’s just your boss being a complete and utter ass.”

Yuuri made a snorting sound through his nose. “Peach, I’ve got to go and freshen up. We have the first meeting this afternoon.”

“I thought the meeting was tomorrow.” Even on his small screen, Phichit’s eyebrow wriggle looked impressive.

“Yeah, the important one.” Yuuri tilted his suitcase so that it lay flat on the ground and unzipped it with one hand to take out his suit. “Today is kind of preparation for tomorrow’s financial assessment. Hang on, Peach, I need to put down the phone for a moment while I hang up my suit for tomorrow.”

“Throw me on the bed, Yuuri, you know I like that!” he heard Phichit’s voice from where he had placed the phone on the edge of his bed. Yuuri laughed as he took out the suit bag and the hanger he’d brought just in case those in the hotel were attached to the wardrobe. He hung it up on the outside of the wardrobe and unzipped it. Then he grabbed his phone from the bed and turned it so that Phichit could see the suit.

“Does it look okay or do I need to steam it?”

After a moment of contemplation Phichit agreed that it was fine. “Are you going in like this today?” he asked.

“Yeah. D’you think it’s alright? I still need a tie.”

“Wow, isn’t it like a thousand degrees there?”

Yuuri groaned in agreement. “I really need to go now, Peach. I’ll send you pictures later.”

“You’d better. And don’t forget the booze and the porn!” They said their goodbyes and Yuuri put down his phone on the bedside table. For a moment he let his eyes scan the suite, overcome by disbelief that he was really going to stay in a damned suite for just a two-night business trip.

Then he took a leap and jumped on the king sized bed.

There was a knock on his door, and he rolled himself out of bed and hastened through the living room to open. Outside in the hall stood Victor, hand poised in the air to knock again.

“Ah, good, you’re not wearing a tie yet.” He held up four different ones, two over each hand, looking between Yuuri and his hands, taxing.

“Would you like to come in for that, Victor?” Yuuri asked, overly patient, and stepped aside to let Victor into his suite.

“Thank you.” Victor beamed at him and walked past him. By the time Yuuri had closed the door he saw that Victor had not stopped in the living room but headed straight for the bedroom. Yuuri hurried after him.

“Do you like your room, Yuuri?” Victor asked, giving the suit hanging up on the wardrobe a once-over.

“It’s fantastic. Though a little too much for two days if you ask me?” Yuuri looked a little sheepish.

Victor’s gaze fell on the bed, at the slight indentation, the somewhat rumpled bedspread, and he gave Yuuri an amused look as if he knew exactly that Yuuri had jumped on the bed with gusto a moment ago.

“Now, Yuuri…” He laid out the ties at the foot of Yuuri’s bed and picked up the first one to begin his usual dance of holding it up in front of Yuuri, looking a couple of times back and forth, shaking his head and reaching for the next one. “Let’s get you ready for your first big meeting, shall we?”

He finally settled on the third tie and Yuuri stepped closer with a sigh, accepting his fate.

“You’re going to steam that suit again of course before tomorrow.” Victor tugged up the collar of Yuuri’s shirt and gave the faintest nod of his head towards the wardrobe, where the suit both Yuuri and Phichit had found perfectly alright was hanging.

“Of course,” Yuuri said, knowing he would do no such thing.

“I’ll _know_ if you didn’t and never let you hear the end of it,” Victor told him with a stern smile and one eyebrow cocked while he made his usual quick work of folding and looping a Windsor knot.

Yuuri smiled back, going for as much cute as he possibly could. 

Victor’s fingers stilled.

The smile seeped from Yuuri’s mouth.

Yuuri felt as if time stood still and let him become aware of each breath Victor took. Of Victor’s warm musky sandal perfume. Of Victor’s eyes on his mouth.

“Victoruuu...” he breathed more than he said, drawing out the last syllable.

Victor blinked. He looked momentarily confused, as if he was wondering how long he had been staring at Yuuri’s mouth. Yuuri witnessed a faint pink climb into Victor’s face, and Victor shook his head very lightly as if to shake off the moment. Concentrating again on the task at hand, Victor finished Yuuri’s tie and turned the collar back down.

“Perfect.” He took a step back for a better look, then nodded.

Yuuri wanted to lick his lips but thought better of it after what had just happened.

“Thank you.” He cleared his throat pointedly when his voice came out a croak.

Suddenly he was all too aware of the fact that he was in the bedroom of his fancy hotel suite in Milan.

With Victor.

“We should go,” Yuuri said.

Victor nodded and took another step back before he turned and stepped through to the living room, announcing he would get this things and meet Yuuri down in the lobby.

Yuuri waited for the door to close behind Victor before he exhaled a breath of relief so heartfelt his cheeks puffed up for a moment.

Much to Chris’ relieve they were taking a taxi this time. Yuuri looked out the window with interest, eager to take in every small detail. Eventually they pulled up outside a rather dull-looking grey building in the centre. Yuuri was sure he saw glimpses of the Duomo through the buildings around them, but there was no time to find out for sure. He followed Chris and Victor up a grey stone staircase and through a heavy door that was all dark wood and thick glass into a foyer that looked not unlike the one in their hotel.

There was a marble reception desk in front of a set of lifts. Restrooms were located to their left, on the right another room that had a glass insert in the door through which Yuuri could see a table and one corner of a sofa as well as part of a kitchen cabinet on which sat, of course, a fancy Italian coffee machine. Huge marble vases were placed in the corners of the lobby, in them, strangely enough, small lemon and orange trees. The only daylight came in trough the door, but there were three huge designer lamps hanging from the ceiling dipping the whole room in a friendly, welcoming light. A couch for visitors was placed on each side of the door, each with a small table holding glossy Crispino & Giacometti brochures for perusal.

Chris insisted on smoking a quick cigarette before they went up. Victor kept him company, but Yuuri preferred to wait in the air-conditioned lobby, smiling back at the girl behind the reception desk whenever their eyes met. He picked up and leafed through one of the brochures, feeling like a college student again at the sight of the shiny happy things they promised. Time and again he kept glancing at the minimalistic clock on the wall above the reception desk, crinkling his brow when he saw the handles move on mercilessly while he slowly began to feel irritated at the prospect of possibly being late.

Victor and Chris were just coming back into the lobby when the lift on the right arrived with a loud ping and the door slid open revealing Michele Crispino.

“I knew it!” Was the first thing he said as he stepped out and headed straight for Chris.

“Crispino!” Chris exclaimed dramatically and opened his arms.

“Giacometti!” Michele obviously bit back a grin as he pulled Chris into a tight hug that lasted forever and involved much patting on the back.

Yuuri had to smile, watching them as he slowly made his way over, hands in his pockets, maintaining a polite distance. This was number four, he thought. The picture in his drawer was finally coming fully to life. He was meeting Michele Crispino.

Who looked, in one word, powerful. His black suit was immaculate. Dolce and Gabbana, Yuuri guessed. His auburn hair was perfectly cut, and there was something like a natural determination in his purple eyes, even as he greeted old friends with an affectionate hug. He held himself upright with squared shoulders that continued in the angles of his face. For being Sara’s twin, he seemed to have nothing of her cheerful warmth and bubbly softness, at least not at first sight.

“As usual it’s Giacometti smoking that’s holding everything up.” Michele’s faced curled into a disapproving little sneer as he leaned in as if to sniff Chris’ hair and for remnants of cigarettes. “Still haven’t kicked that nasty habit, I see.”

“I haven’t, but I think Victor sneakily went behind my back and quit.” Chris grinned.

“I just cut back so much you don’t see me anymore.” Victor smirked at him before he crossed the small distance between himself and Michele.

“Mickey.” They shared a tight embrace, nothing like what Yuuri had read up about proper greetings in Italy, but of course, these two shared a lifelong friendship, the rules didn’t apply to them.

“And you’re Katsuki.” Yuuri felt his back straighten almost by itself when Michele let go of Victor and turned to him, one hand outstretched.

“Yuuri, please.” Yuuri shook his hand, surprised to find Michele smiling.

“I’ve heard great things about you, Yuuri.”

“Must have been a different Yuuri.” Yuuri gave a weak smile.

“You’ve lasted almost half a year already as this peacock’s secretary.” Michele nodded in Chris’ direction. “That alone makes you deserve a medal.”

Chris tutted.

Victor was already up the steps to call the lift.

The Italian headquarters of Crispino & Giacometti lacked light, Yuuri thought as they stepped out the lift and turned left into a long hallway that looked more like a hotel than an office building. Doors were leading off to the left and right, and he could hear the occasional voice or phone ringing behind them in passing.

“So…” Chris said in his best debriefing voice. “Today is just a first meeting. Tomorrow’s meeting will take all morning probably, the guy wants to comb through our revenues. Today it’s just introductions and finalising the important issues for tomorrow. God, I hope he’s read the files we forwarded in advance.” He rolled his eyes at nobody in particular.

“When have they ever?” Victor laughed.

“Now, Yuuri, you probably know that we’ll need to you keep very detailed minutes,” Michele told him as they fell to walking side by side along the hallway behind Chris and Victor. “Don’t be surprised, we have my secretary there, too. It’s not because we don’t trust your abilities but because we don’t trust him. He might slip into Italian at some point. Giulia is mainly there for back-up, to catch whatever he might mutter in Italian. As he well might, we Italians tend to get carried away and voice that.”

“I know,” Yuuri grinned. “I’m friends with your sister.”

Michele laughed. “In this case I dare say you’re perfectly prepared. These financial audits are a nuisance, but we need to have them every half year. In the end it’s good for us, clean books and all, the bank and the board are happy, but fuck, the meetings themselves are such a boring pain in the arse, and those sharks ask so many questions.”

“So what’s this one like?” Chris asked, looking back over his shoulder.

Michele rolled his eyes. “One of those young guns who think they own the place and can do better at what their superior has been doing a brilliant job of for years. Full of big words like cost cutting, outsourcing, streamlining.”

“He came alone?” Chris’ eyes lit up like a child who had been given a present.

“ _Sì_.” Michele rolled his eyes. “Thinks he can do this in his sleep, without the support of an older colleague. Bit of a cocky arsehole who acts like he knows everything better. I spoke to him for five minutes and he already gave off that condescending vibe of someone who wants to explain the ways of the world to us.”

“Ooooh! My favourite kind!” Victor exclaimed with a gleeful smile.

The look that passed between Chris and Victor caught Yuuri by surprise. Sure, he had seen Chris and Victor in action. He knew they could be lethal in business. But this was a whole new level. Like a switch had been flicked, they instinctively both straightened their shoulders, and their faces mirrored the same expression of firmly set jaw, flashing eyes and almost feral grins. Victor stretched his arms out in front of him, laced his fingers and cracked his knuckles. Like a well oiled machine, they were going into this meeting like onto their favourite ride at the amusement park, eager for some fun and rearing to go. 

At this moment Yuuri began to fear a little for the financial auditor. These two looked like they were going to play with him like wild cats with prey before they devoured him for dinner.

Chris opened the door to Michele’s office and Yuuri’s jaw dropped.

“ _uso!”_ he exclaimed and took an involuntary step closer to the wide window front. The view was magnificent -the deep, deep blue of the cloudless sky and the marble of the Duomo glistening in the sunshine.

He heard the laughter behind his back, and when he turned to look at them in disbelief, Michele said, “It’s okay, Yuuri, this is everyone’s reaction who comes to my office for the first time.”

“How do you ever get any work done?” Yuuri murmured and looked out the window again.

Another door opened and Yuuri turned around when he heard a woman calling out first Chris and then Victor’s name. She came in through a door to the right of Michele’s dark brown oak designer desk, from what Yuuri guessed was the front room to Michele’s office they had deliberately not come in through. Most probably the auditor was already waiting there.

Yuuri watched how the woman fussed over Chris and Victor with the affectionate dramatics of an Italian _mamma_. She was beautiful, somewhere between forty and fifty, he guessed, dressed in an immaculate burgundy business suit, black hair cut into a sleek bob. A pair of glasses hung from a slim gold chain around her neck.

He automatically straightened up when Michele came over to him, one arm on the small of the woman’s back. “Yuuri, this is Giulia, my guardian angel,” Michele introduced his secretary. “I would be lost without her.”

“He would.” She winked at Yuuri as they came to stand in front of him.

“Giulia, this is Chris’ secretary, Yuuri Katsuki.”

Yuuri waited until she offered her hand for him to shake. “Nice to meet you.” He took a small bow, shooting daggers at Victor with his eyes when he heard him snicker.

“Oh, the pleasure is all mine.” Giulia’s English was more accented than Michele’s, but she radiated warmth and cheerfulness. “We will be writing minutes together, Yuuri.”

He nodded, smiling. It was impossible not to relax around this woman.

“I’ll make some coffee and bring in the guest.” She turned to head back out the door she’d come in through.

“Do you need any help?” Yuuri asked.

“ _Macché!”_ She reclined his offer with a dramatic and very Italian hand gesture.

“ _Che bellissimo!”_ she said approvingly to Chris and Victor as she walked past them, not even trying to hide that she was referring to Yuuri. She fondled Chris’ cheek and told him with a stern smile, “ _È troppo buono per te._ ”

Yuuri frowned, wondering why Michele was chuckling and Chris looked cross.

It was an unpleasant meeting, to say the least. Gianluigi, the financial auditor, looked like a catalogue model but had the manners of a shark. The six of them were seated in high-end leather and chrome chairs around the oval conference table at one end of Michele’s office. Yuuri was typing his notes into a notebook whereas Giulia stuck to the more conventional method of pen and paper. It was clear within the first ten minutes that Gianluigi had no intention of coming up with a common agenda. He dug right into telling them what all he considered needed to be changed, completely missing the point of the whole meeting.

Yuuri noticed Chris and Victor and Michele exchanging frustrated glances more than once. 

Eventually, Victor leaned forward in his seat.

“Look, Gianluca…” he started.

Yuuri looked up in confusion. Checked the protocol again even though he knew very well how the auditor had been introduced to him. His frown deepened. Victor _never_ forgot a name.

After a couple of minutes of Victor dissecting every single one of Gianluigi’s attempts at convincing them of cutting down the number of their employees by half and outsourcing what was possible of producing in countries such as Bangladesh or Vietnam, Yuuri realised that Victor was doing it on purpose.

Victor got up from his seat, having the advantage of height as he kept addressing Gianluigi with various different versions of names starting with ‘Gian’, which made Gianluigi visibly more irritated by the minute.

Chris was sitting with his chair turned sideways, one leg crossed over the other, watching the exchange with the calm satisfaction of a hunter who had let his dog loose.

Gianluigi’s fist eventually came down on the table, making them all flinch. “It’s Gian _luigi!_ ” He forced out the words through clenched teeth, otherwise he would probably have yelled. “My name is Gianluigi!”

A perfectly wolfish grin on his face and both hands planted firmly on the table, Victor leaned in on him so close that Gianluigi retreated back in his chair instinctively.

“That took longer than I thought it would.” Victor’s tone was nonchalant, his eyes, however, steel. “Not pleasant, is it, when someone has no regard for your name?”

Gianluigi was flustered, trying to regain composure.

“I know the name of every single person working for his company and I’ll be damned if I let someone as inconsiderate and sleek as you put them out in the street or replace them with nameless exploitable puppets in Bangladesh! Leave aside the fact that this is highly unethical and negates everything we are striving for in the name of this company.”

Victor returned to his seat and sat down, reached for his glass of water and took a sip as if he had just had a pleasant conversation about the weather.

Gianluigi went through the pile of papers in front of him again, clearly to try and play over his frayed nerves, until he seemed to find something he thought he could safely address.

The moment he mentioned streamlining Chris and Victor looked at each other and rolled their eyes with exasperation. 

Seeing their reaction, Gianluigi reached for the next sheet of paper.

“Now… the pension schemes are outdated and…” he started.

“We are _not_ touching the pension schemes.” Victor sounded bored. “Next.”

Chris and Michele exchanged an amused look. Yuuri realized that they were absolutely enjoying Victor taking this guy apart.

It went on like this for another ten minutes or so.

“Look.” Victor finally deigned Gianluigi with a long sigh. “We know you’re just doing your job. We would like to do ours. We have prepared a whole lot of files for you, which you clearly have not read or else you wouldn’t start out by confronting us with the one aspect we have made perfectly clear in pretty much every single one of those papers. Cut backs in staff are non-negotiable.”

“What Victor is trying to say is…” Chris leaned forward in his seat now and looked Gianluigi straight in the eye. “We would very much appreciate it if you could read through the papers we sent you in advance so that tomorrow’s meeting can go as quickly and pleasantly as we all secretly hope for.”

The meeting ended soon after, much to the relief of everyone. Yuuri tried to help Giulia tidy up but she shooed him from the room so that he ended up downstairs in the lobby again with Chris and Victor, stepping out the door for some fresh air which was a futile attempt because it was very hot outside and both Chris and Victor were smoking.

“Chris, Victor…” They both looked up when Yuuri addressed them.

“That free time slot tomorrow afternoon after the meeting and before the evening appointment… will you need me for anything or do I have some free time?”

They exchanged a look, then Chris replied, “You’re free. Unless you want to stay around for boring number haggling?”

Yuuri ran one hand across the back of his head. “I wouldn’t actually mind, it’s just that… I booked a slot to see ‘The Last Supper’? Just in case. I’d just feel like I’d be a bad Japanese if I didn’t go try to see it if I happen to be here.”

Both Victor and Chris laughed. “Sure.” Chris gave a nonchalant nod. “Take the afternoon off.” He stubbed out his cigarette half-heartedly against the side of the waste bin and chucked the stub in, ignoring Victor’s glare that clearly said he wasn’t supposed to do that unless he was sure it was really out.

“Thank you, Chris,” Yuuri said, relieved.

Chris gave Yuuri another nod and headed back inside, claiming he needed to catch up with Michele.

Victor was also stubbing out his cigarette, though he made sure it was completely out before he threw it away. He gave his hands a disgusted glare like he couldn’t stand the smell of tobacco any more as soon as he’d finished smoking.

They walked back into the lobby side by side.

“What would you have done if we’d said we need you to be here?” Victor asked.

Yuuri shrugged. “Let my time slot pass and throw 30 Euro down the drain.”

Victor laughed.

He looked at his watch. “Yuuri. We’re done here for today, I’m just going to say good-bye to Mickey. Meet me outside in fifteen minutes?”

“Why?” Yuuri’s eyes narrowed. That mischievous sparkle in Victor’s eyes had never not ended in him getting teased or embarrassed more than he would have liked.

Victor was already heading up the steps again, turning halfway now to look at Yuuri.

“I promised I’d take you shopping, didn’t I?”

“Ooo-kay.” Yuuri nodded. “I just need…” He indicated the direction of the bathroom with a tilt of his head.

Victor nodded too and continued up the stairs to call the lift.

The bathroom reminded Yuuri very much of the one Chris had had installed in their office, though the golden taps took even Chris’ flamboyant taste up a notch. The marble of the sink seeped cool into his hands as he leaned on his palms, taking deep breaths for a few minutes until he felt he could trust his body again. That Victor he had witnessed in the meeting. That fierce and ruthless and smug and dedicated and in all that completely and utterly _sexy_ Victor. Yuuri hoped with all his might that he would be able to cope with that.

The Crispino & Giacometti flagship store was on Via della Spiga, right in the beating heart of Milan’s fashion district. Yuuri muttered disbelievingly under his breath when they got out of the taxi and walked the rest of the way up to the store. People with shopping bags bearing all well-known luxury brand names were walking up and down the street, peering into shop windows. 

Yuuri barely had time to marvel at the intricately swung golden letters above a rounded doorway, so familiar and yet an absolute shock seeing them here in this size and setting, as he followed Victor up a couple of steps and through a glass door. Inside it was all warm lights and soft carpets, tasteful dark wooden furnishing that distinctly spoke of Michele’s influence. It was air-conditioned and quiet inside the shop, patrons and shop assistants talking in moderate voices. The thick carpets dampened any sound. Italian music was playing at low volume from hidden speakers and an elegant ambience scent of cedar and something citrusy filled the air. The shop area fanned out only a little to the left and right but it stretched very far back into the building. Shelves on the walls displayed stacks of shirts or pants or ties, while tables interspersed throughout the shop showed off whole outfits on mannequins standing right in their centre while the clothes they presented were assorted on the table around them. Yuuri could see shoes on display further down the back, and a staircase leading up to the lifestyle range, as an arrow and elegant golden writing on the wall indicated.

“Victor!”

By now Yuuri was almost used to people coming up to greet them with open arms and wide smiles here in Milan. A man who was about Giulia’s age was approaching them in quick strides. Needless to say, he, too, was impeccably dressed in a sleek charcoal suit and white button up, lime green tie matching his pocket square. He had those classical Italian good looks, angled face, dark eyes, well-trimmed five o’clock shadow. There were crinkles of laughter around his eyes, and his black hair was streaked with elegant grey.

“Andrea!” Victor stepped into the embrace just as heartily.

“Yuuri, Andrea is our store manager,” Victor said as he turned to him. The usual introductions and small talk followed.

“How are the girls?” Victor asked, and Andrea launched into an elaborate monologue that involved a lot of names and references to school and university and useless boyfriends and beautiful hair chopped off and dyed turquoise.

“Andrea has four daughters,” Victor explained to Yuuri.

“They are my greatest happiness and single-handedly responsible for every one of these.” Andrea pointed at the grey streaks in his black hair. Victor laughed.

“One day, Victor, you will be in my shoes, and I will tease you about it every day!” Andrea chuckled. “So, what can I do for you? You’re not just here to say hello because you’re in town, are you?”

“Andrea, you wound me!” Victor placed one hand on his heart in jest. “But actually, I’ve come to take Yuuri here shopping. And take measurements for a suit, if Fabio is in?”

“He is.” Andrea nodded and turned his head, calling out for someone named Fabio from somewhere in the shop.

“I don’t need a suit…” Yuuri started.

“He does,” Victor insisted, talking to Andrea who had started off towards a section further back in the store. Victor followed, and Yuuri had no choice but to follow, too.

“Victor!” Yuuri hissed. “I can’t possibly! It’s too… I can’t afford this!”

“Yuuuuuri!” Victor waved his protest away with a quick move of his hand. “You’re getting twenty per cent staff discount. Treat yourself. Plus, I know how much you earn, remember?” He winked.

Yuuri blushed. Well, damn. He did.

“You can afford a little shopping spree.” Victor smiled.

Yuuri huffed. It was the ‘little’ part of it that worried him, if the predatory expression on Victor’s face was anything to go by.

They turned right into an area of the shop that looked like a small room turned into a fancy, spacious changing room. The cabin itself was in one corner, the biggest changing room Yuuri had probably ever seen. Right outside, two comfortable looking armchairs were placed a little way away, most likely for waiting friends. A tiny coffee table stood to the side, holding a small one of those fancy Italian coffee machines. No assortment of multi-coloured capsules as Yuuri had expected but proper coffee beans that were just at this moment being filled into the machine by a young shop assistant whose name tag read _Laura_.

Fabio was a young man about Victor’s age. Yuuri didn’t even bother anymore to check out his suit because every single person he met here in Milan was fabulously dressed and made him feel a little underdressed in his own plain off the rack suit. He had been dreaming of and actually saving up for getting measured for a tailored suit of his own for some time, though he would rather bite off his tongue than share this with Victor.

Yuuri moved according to Fabio’s instructions, raising his arms when he placed the measuring tape around his chest. It was a little weird, having a handsome Italian man walking all around him and placing a measuring tape across this shoulders and around his neck and down the inside of his leg, but Fabio went about it professionally and mostly quietly except for when he needed to ask Yuuri to move or turn a certain way.

Victor throned in one of the armchairs, pretending not to pay attention to how Fabio was taking Yuuri’s measures while he was drinking coffee and chatting away animatedly with Andrea about the latest collection and what was new in Milan since his last visit. Yuuri thought he could feel stolen glances but then he couldn’t have said for sure if that wasn’t just his nerves. He had always thought that when he was getting measures for his first tailored suit, it would be Phichit who was there with him, not Victor Nikiforov.

Yuuri flushed crimson when Fabio commented approvingly on the thickness of his thighs. There was a sneaky sensation of feeling Victor’s eyes on him, and he decided not to look up for confirmation.

He was glad when the measuring was over and Andrea rose from the second armchair, telling Yuuri to sit instead while he made him a cup of coffee. Yuuri leaned his head back and closed his eyes, giving himself over to the loud noise of coffee beans being ground and the aroma of a freshly brewed cup.

After serving Yuuri his coffee, Andrea joined Fabio by the small desk where Fabio was copying Yuuri’s measurements into an iPad. 

“One suit,” Andrea said and watched Fabio add the info on screen.

“Two,” Victor said.

“Victor!” Yuuri reprimanded. 

Andrea grinned. “Two, then.” He nodded at Fabio to type it in.

Victor leaned in close across the distance between the two armchairs, his voice deep and ticklish against Yuuri’s ear. “I can take it off your next pay check if it makes you feel better.”

“You’d better!” Yuuri glared at him, exasperated, hoping the excitement he felt didn’t show on his face as much as he feared.

“Colour?” Andrea asked.

“Black. And dark grey,” Yuuri said.

“Blue,” Victor corrected. “One in blue. You like blue, Yuuri.”

Yuuri opened his mouth to protest. Victor was directing that infuriating smile at him that always said it was futile to argue. “Fine,” he huffed. “Blue.”

Victor beamed as he told Andrea to make sure the blue matched the frame of Yuuri’s glasses.

Yuuri looked into his coffee cup as if for answers.

When Yuuri had finished his coffee Victor chased him out of his seat and announced that they were going to do some proper shopping now. Yuuri was introduced to two very young shop assistants named Alessandro and Roberto and soon found himself following Victor and the two of them around the store. Victor took items from shelves and handed them to the two assistants – clothes he wanted Yuuri to try on to Alessandro, basics that didn’t need trying on to Roberto. Soon Yuuri watched socks and ties and sealed up shirts and polo shirts pile up in Roberto’s arms. Victor was like a man on a mission, knowing exactly what he was looking for and what to get.

Yuuri went along with it until they came to the underwear department and he decided it was time to put his foot down.

“I am _not_ letting you pick out my underwear, Victor!” he announced, alarmed.

Victor looked at him over his shoulder. Yuuri’s firm expression of ‘I am absolutely not buying any underwear here!’ seemed to convince him, for he just smiled and shrugged before he turned around to wander away from the underwear over to another part of the shop where he started to look at shoes.

Yuuri waited until he was sure Victor was well and truly out of sight until he quickly scooted over to the underwear. Just a brief look, he told himself. He didn’t need new underpants anyway, he had plenty. Absolutely plenty, he thought when he saw the display before him. But, damn. He didn’t have anything like these stylish, comfortable looking Italian briefs. Looking around again to make sure nobody was watching, he quickly snatched several packs from the shelf and added them to the pile Roberto was already holding, hiding them from sight by piling some shirts on top of them.

He also picked a red silk shirt for Phichit, because with how much he was splashing out on, a gift for his best friend wouldn’t make a difference.

A short while later he found himself back by the changing room to try on the things Victor had picked; Alessandro wheeled in a clothes rack that held all the items. Yuuri wouldn’t have minded if Victor had done a little shopping of his own, but from the way he was back in the armchair, legs crossed comfortably while Andrea made him another cup of coffee, this was probably not going to happen. He caught one of Victor’s gleeful smiles when he entered the changing room. Three walls of it were mirrors. There was a comfortable bench too and several fancy clothes pegs on the wall. 

“Don’t you dare peek!” Yuuri told Victor, wondering at the same time why he would even imply such a stupid thing.

“Yuuuuri!” Victor snorted with laughter, clearly thinking the very same thing.

Yuuri rolled his eyes and pulled the curtain with perhaps a little more force than necessary. He slipped off his shoes, took off his suit jacket and tie and sat down on the bench with his shirt unbuttoned for a moment to send a text message to Phichit:

_Victor took me shopping in C &G’s flagship store. I’m in hell._

He decided not to mention the suit measuring until he was back home. His phone buzzed.

**_Phichit_ **

_If this is hell to you then I don’t want to know your idea of heaven._

_Show me!_

Yuuri took a quick series of photos of the clothes on the rack, trying to show them to Phichit as well as possible. Phichit’s reply was prompt, as usual.

**_Phichit_ **

_I’m afraid his taste is impeccable, but then we already knew that. Spoil yourself, Yuuri. You deserve it._

Yuuri sighed. Some useless back-up his best friend was.

Victor’s voice was heard from the other side of the curtain.

“Yuuuuuri, are you sending pictures to Phichit to get his opinion when _I’m_ right here??”

“Are you pouting?” Yuuri asked back.

There was no answer, telling Yuuri he was right.

Yuuri stood and took off his pants. He started with a pair of grey slacks and an off-white polo shirt.

For a while he tried and changed, stepped out, got mostly approval from both Victor and Andrea, because of course, it would have been too much to hope that whatever clothes Victor picked would suck.

Victor almost shot up from the armchair when Yuuri came out wearing a light blue neck sweater the price of which had made him cry a little because he knew once he touched the soft cashmere that he would rather live on instant ramen for two months than having to leave this behind. He wasn’t exactly short of money, years of putting money aside into a savings account made sure of that. It was the treating himself that he wasn’t used to. Being Japanese, he made sure to always buy quality. But perhaps not quite so much at once. And here he was, a Crispino & Giacometti fanboy since his childhood, trying on all these amazing clothes, and he wanted _everything_.

“Now _that_ is what I call a sweater!” Victor nodded his approval, and Yuuri couldn’t help a small, proud smile because, well. Victor was right.

The last two items on the clothes rack were a pair of black pants and a white dress shirt. Yuuri changed into the pants first and turned to face the mirror. And gaped. They hugged his butt and thighs like no other pair of pants he had ever owned. He _had_ to have Phichit’s input on this, this was an emergency.

Angling for a good shot of himself in front of the mirror, he took a picture and sent it to Phichit.

The reply came instantly.

**_Phichit_ **

🍑

_You buy those pants, Yuuri Katsuki or I’ll disown you! For real this time!_

“Yuuri! What’s taking you so long in there?” Victor called from outside.

“Hang on,” Yuuri called out and reached for the shirt. The white cotton felt like a caress on his skin as he slipped it on and closed most of the buttons except for the top three. The slim fit made it cling to his arms and chest in all the right places without looking too tight, and the cut brought out the curve of his hips. It was shorter, made to be worn over pants rather than being tucked in. The tails came down just below belt level. Yuuri peered at himself in the mirror, wondering whether it was too short in the back, too open in the front, whether the shadows of his nipples were not too dark and noticeable through the fine material. He was about to send another picture to Phichit but Victor was calling again.

“Yuuuuri! Come out now or I’ll come in!”

Sighing, Yuuri decided to get it over and done with. His glasses were buried somewhere under the clothes he had tried on last so he decided to leave them off. He sleeked his hair back and tried to make it stay in place with a firm press of his fingers, then he pulled the curtain aside and stepped out.

He saw Andrea’s eyes widen first, his mouth turn into a beatific smile. Yuuri looked at him in question, nervous about his expert verdict. He heard Victor’s coffee cup come down on the saucer with a much too loud clank.

“ _Meraviglioso!_ ” Andrea clapped his hands once like a child at a birthday party and stepped towards Yuuri to fuss a little with the hem of the shirt and turn him around so that he had his back on them where he pulled the shirt into place. “Beautiful!”

Yuuri felt himself blushing under the praise and the fussing hands.

Andrea turned Yuuri around again like showing him off.

Victor was sitting very still in his armchair. Looking. No. Staring. He seemed stunned, his mouth half open, and it made Yuuri want to squirm with, something. Discomfort? Insecurity? Yuuri felt his face heat up even more when his gaze met Victor’s and it was deep, inscrutable. Anxiety flared up in his stomach. He’d known it! He’d known the shirt was too short, the pants too tight!

Yuuri focussed on the music playing softly from the speakers, trying to find an anchor so his anxiety stayed down. It was a cheerful pop song, a woman’s voice chiming out. He didn’t understand the language except maybe for two words universally known, though a small voice inside his head was teasing about the fact that these words would come up in a song at this very moment while he was standing there locking eyes with Victor.

_Se cade il mondo sarà perché ti amo…_

“Isn’t he beautiful, Victor?” Andrea’s voice shattered the moment.

“Breathtaking.” Victor’s hoarse voice sounded like someone else’s.

“Okay,” Yuuri said quickly and gave Andrea a brief smile before he dove back inside the changing room. “I’ll change back and then I think we’re done here.”

He had probably never changed so quickly in all his life.

Andrea poked his head in, making sure to keep the curtain absolutely closed apart from where his head was. “Can you give me some of these already so we can start ringing them up?”

Yuuri nodded and reached for the light blue cashmere sweater and the polo shirt to hand them to Andrea. The black pants and white shirt came next.

“Do you want anything to go back or are you taking everything?” Andrea asked as he kept sticking his hand in to take clothes from Yuuri.

“He’s taking _everything_ ,” Victor replied solemnly before Yuuri could answer.

Yuuri groaned. Loudly. For his sanity and his savings account.

He arrived by the elegant wooden round desk that served as a welcoming and information desk as well as the check-out and handed over his credit card wordlessly, hoping they wouldn’t spell the total amount out loud because it might send him into cardiac arrest. They didn’t, and he slipped the receipt very quickly into his wallet with the card without looking. He had never in all his life spent so much money on himself, he was absolutely sure.

Just as he was wondering about how they would possibly manage to carry what looked like five hundred shopping bags between the two of them, Alessandro brought out a suitcase Yuuri recognized from the latest Crispino & Giacometti lifestyle brand’s collection. Recognized it well in fact, from spending several hours pining over it online. While Yuuri still tried to comprehend what was happening, Alessandro and Roberto began to neatly pack all his purchases into the suitcase.

“What the…” Yuuri swung around. “VICTOR!”

Victor was currently pouring over a display of ties behind a glass frame.

And Yuuri knew it was pointless but it couldn’t hurt to try. “What is this suitcase?”

“My treat. How else would you get all this stuff home?” Victor beamed. “Consider it a birthday present.”

“My birthday is in November, Victor!”

“I know. It’s an _early_ birthday present.”

“You’re impossible!” Yuuri threw his hands up in the air in defeat.

Victor’s phone sounded with an incoming message and he glanced briefly at the screen.

“Mickey’s taking us out to dinner,” he told Yuuri. “We’ll just drop everything off at the hotel and meet them there.”

“Fine,” Yuuri said, completely and utterly exhausted.

In the back of the taxi, he kept looking out the window and tried not to let it show how much it thrilled him to think of that suitcase in the trunk that was filled to the brim with new clothes. He knew already that Phichit would insist on turning Yuuri’s living room into a catwalk to have Yuuri show them all off, and the thought of it filled him with giddy premonition.

“Doesn’t that feel great, Yuuri?” came Victor’s voice from beside him on the backseat. “Coming back from a successful shopping spree? Your first custom-made suit is a big step.”

“Shut up,” Yuuri replied good-humouredly and smiled out the window, trying to ignore Victor laughing quietly and perhaps a little complacently beside him.

The _osteria_ Michele had chosen was in walking distance from their hotel. Yuuri was glad he’d had time for a quick shower and change of clothes, and he saw the others had done the same. They sat together at a corner table of the buzzing restaurant, sharing a huge platter of antipasti and two bottles of red wine between them. Yuuri had opted for pizza like Michele, whereas Chris had gone for saltimbocca and Victor for pasta. In the end everyone ended up trying everyone else’s main dish. Talk was light and they laughed as they relived moments of the meeting again. Yuuri leaned against the wall in his back, watching Victor laughing while the humidity of the evening and the wine made Victor’s brow damp and strands of his silver hair stick to his forehead. He was a completely different person from who he had been in that meeting earlier.

They ordered dessert and espresso even though they all claimed they were too full to eat any more, but they finished everything and eventually walked back to their hotel, where Michele took his leave.

That night Yuuri buried his flaming face deep in his pillows as he lay curled in on himself, working his cock with one hand and pinching his nipples with the other until he drew delicious pain, wishing desperately for Victor to be with him and fucking him hard, sweaty silver bangs plastered to his forehead. That deadly attractive Victor from the afternoon’s meeting, the one who had stared at him in the changing room - Yuuri wanted to be on his hands and knees for him, wanted to be _his_. He came with a broken whimper, guilt flooding every cell of his body as he hastily wiped himself off with a bunch of tissues he had brought under the blanket with him. He shoved the soggy mess out on the carpet from under the blanket and made himself as small as he possibly could in his king size bed, willing away this feeling that he had no right to be thinking of Victor in this way, willing away the shame.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

From the moment Yuuri came up the escalator and saw the piazza in front of his eyes, he was in love. A huge round space sat in the middle of skyscrapers whose glass fronts threw the reflections of sunlight and other buildings back and forth. There was a large reflecting pool in the middle, beside it three large openings from where one could see the lower levels of shops and a parking lot. A concrete path connected the central round and met like a cross in the middle. In its very centre sat a metal construction resembling tree branches with round solar panels on top. A circle of seats was wound around it. Shops and cafes took up the ground floors of the surrounding buildings. Everything was light and life and laughter. Yuuri had rarely felt something about himself attaching to a place so quickly but here and now he wished he wouldn’t have to meet with Chris anymore to talk shop. He just wanted to sit here in this square forever, and all time, and then some.

He found some free seating space on the low and wide concrete that went around almost the whole water area like one continuous, curving bench. Some parts had a back rest worked out of the material, others were completely flat. Yuuri chose the flat end near the fountain area. He arranged his shopping carefully beside him before he sat, yanked off his tie and opened the top three buttons of his shirt. Children were playing in the water, running barefoot into the shallow water, screeching and laughing happily whenever the fountains shot up. Yuuri was a little envious, wishing he could join them.

It had been another hot day and he felt a little too warm and overdressed in his suit now, but he hadn’t wanted to waste any time and set off directly as soon as the meeting was over. The meeting had taken all morning and left his mind feeling numb. After concentrating for hours he had just been happy to get away and relieve his fried brain with some culture and beauty. He had paid his tourist duty to Leonardo da Vinci and taken a quick tour through the museum his ticket included before he hit the city for some shopping.

He had spent one whole hour in Peck, browsing delicatessen forever until he could decide on which biscuits, chocolates and tea he was going to buy for his family. He got some gifts for Phichit, Leo and Guang Hong. He’d gone to a fancy pet shop and bought some small gifts for Vicchan and Shi. For Makkachin too, because he didn’t want her to feel left out. On a whim, he had also bought a pair of leopard print boxer shorts for Yura as he hurried through Galleria Vittorio Emanuele. He wasn’t really sure about this and boxer shorts seemed a bit of an impudent souvenir, but Yura liked animal prints and it had just struck him as the kind of thing Yura might like.

Being out and about had helped clear his head, too. In the morning he had barely been able to look Victor in the eye. Victor always seemed to be able to pick up on his moods, see right to the bottom of his soul. Yuuri couldn’t let Victor pick up on _this_ mood, ever. For both their sakes. An afternoon on his own, exploring a foreign city, thinking about other things and other people than Victor, had unfurled the tight curl of shame and anxiety inside him. The record was set straight; Yuuri felt able for things to be normal between him and Victor again. Colleagues. Friends. And not just able. Ready, too.

Leaning back on his arms he looked up at the blue sky, the sunlight hugging him from all sides. He watched dogs and children play in the water, laughed softly about how happy they were. This was bliss. It could only be bliss. And it seeped into him, filled him out so wholly that it squeezed all negative feelings into the furthest corners of him until they were stretched so thin he almost felt like he could make them evaporate through his skin.

Remembering their texts from the previous day he took a couple of pictures and sent them to Phichit with the message:

_THIS is what heaven looks like to me!_

Yuuri heaved a sigh of relief when he saw the time. He was early for his appointment with Chris. He was also awfully hungry, so he tried to work himself into a mental state in which it would be acceptable to himself to suggest getting a pizza to Chris during their meeting. The only reason he could wrestle out of himself was that eating in Chris’ company was better than not eating at all and starving. But just about.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Victor gathered the papers in front of him into a neat pile. Between the three of them, they had spent the afternoon going over their strategies for the second half the year and reconfirmed their end-of-the-year goals. The deal they were waiting for still stalling didn’t make them nervous per se, though they would have preferred being able to calculate with that money already because it kept several projects on hold.

“Now.” Chris loosened his tie and l placed one arm around Michele’s shoulder. “I want to know all about your-“

“My new apartment,” Michele cut in before Chris could finish the sentence. “Of course. I’ll tell you at _aperitivo_.”

Victor looked up at the two of them.

“What do you mean _aperitivo_? You have an appointment.” He looked pointedly at Chris.

“Chris! Why didn’t you tell me you have an appointment?” Michele raised his eyebrows. “We can meet for drinks afterwards then.”

“I don’t have an appointment.”

“Chris!” Victor’s eyes flared with impatience.

Michele was watching their exchange mostly unfazed. He had seen too many of those to get concerned.

Chris sighed like an unhappy child having to eat his greens. “Victor! That appointment is just Yuuri and me going through my schedule for the next couple of months. We can do that on the train home. I don’t know why you set it up in the first place.”

Except that he knew _exactly_ why Victor had set up that appointment for him with Yuuri, and his eyes and smug grin told Victor so. And that Chris had no intention of playing into his hands.

“Will you at least have the decency to cancel yourself?” Victor asked as he stuffed the papers into his briefcase.

“I’ll email him,” Chris shrugged. “If I don’t forget.”

“ _Stronzo!_ ” Michele murmured under his breath. Victor cast Michele a gleeful smile.

“Alright, gentlemen.” Victor rose from his seat at the conference table. “I wish you a nice evening.”

“You’re not coming, Victor?” Michele asked, surprised.

Victor shook his head. “Sorry, Mickey. I already made plans.”

He said goodbye to Michele with a long, affectionate hug. As they were leaving the next day, he would probably not see him again before their departure.

“Our train home leaves at 11 tomorrow.” Victor patted Chris on the upper arm. “Don’t miss it.”

He left through the door to Giulia’s office so he could say goodbye to her as well, taking his empty coffee cup and water glass with him.

Chris was giving him a long, pensive look, but Victor was already halfway out the door and never noticed.

Ten minutes later Victor slipped into the back of a taxi. He looked out the window, biting the inside of his cheeks as he thought about his dinner plans. He had booked a table in his favourite restaurant, never passing up an opportunity to eat there when he was in town. But no matter how many times he tried to concentrate on food, his thoughts always came back to Yuuri. Yuuri had seemed distant all morning. He was perfectly polite and committed to the job as he always was, and yet Victor felt that he’d been shying away from him, averting his eyes. Their usual banter had felt half-hearted, and as soon as their meeting was over Yuuri had excused himself like he couldn’t wait to get away.

Victor hoped it wasn’t the way he had stared at him so blatantly in the changing room the day before. He hoped Yuuri didn’t regret by now that he had persuaded him to do all that shopping, spend so much money. Yuuri was stubborn and meticulous, surely he wouldn’t have let himself be coaxed into buying so much if he couldn’t stretch to it. Victor worried his bottom lip between his teeth. It all came back to that moment their eyes locked in the changing room. Time had stopped for him at that moment, he even remembered the words of the song on the stereo.

_Se cade il mondo, sarà perché ti amo…._

He probably _had_ been staring too hard. Crossed a line. There was no other explanation for Yuuri taking a step back. Like he did with Chris. Victor swallowed hard, but the sentiment, once felt, was very hard to ignore, and the thought that he had made Yuuri uncomfortable was unbearable to him.

He arrived at the hotel and paid the taxi driver. By the time the lift door closed behind him to take him up to his room, he had his phone at his ear, calling Yuuri.

“Victor?”

Victor exhaled the breath he hadn’t known he was holding while he listened to Yuuri’s phone ringing, wondering whether Yuuri would pick up when he saw Victor’s name on the display.

“Yuuri.” He slid the key card through the lock and pushed open the door to his suite with his shoulder. “How are you?” he asked as nonchalantly as he possibly could and threw his briefcase in an armchair.

“Fine. More than fine, actually, I’m sitting in this really beautiful place and I’m going to stay here forever!”

Victor pulled off his tie and shrugged out of his suit jacket, changing the phone from one ear to the other in doing so. Hearing Yuuri’s voice untangled the worries inside him somewhat. Yuuri sounded cheerful. Happy. More than just polite. Relief started to bubble up in Victor’s stomach.

“How was your afternoon?” Yuuri asked.

“Boring.” Victor slumped down on the sofa in the living room of his suite. “Yours was much more entertaining, I hope?”

He found himself smiling as Yuuri launched into an enthusiastic account of what he’d seen and done and bought. He sounded so happy. At ease. As if the morning’s strange mood had definitely passed, or never happened. It worked for Victor either way; he was glad Yuuri was talking to him again like before.

“So, are you done with work?” Yuuri asked.

“Yes. I just arrived back at the hotel.”

“Oh.”

Victor frowned at what he detected as a change in Yuuri’s mood.

“Does that mean Chris is on his way?” Yuuri asked. “I went to the underground stop close to where we’re supposed to meet.”

“Ah, Yuuri…” Victor took a deep breath. He hated having to do this. Bloody Chris!

“I’m afraid Chris won’t be able to make it.”

“Oh.”

There was a pause. For some strange reason Victor felt his heartbeat quicken.

“I’m sorry, Yuuri,” he said quietly into the silence. “You’re probably disappointed.”

“Actually… I just did a silly little victory dance,” came Yuuri’s reply very solemnly.

“You what?” Victor had to laugh.

“I’m sorry, Victor, I know this trip is work, not pleasure, but it’s such a beautiful day, and the meeting this morning dragged on forever, my brain still shuts down when I think about it. And this is such a nice place… hello there, you’re cute! Hang on, Victor!”

All of a sudden Yuuri seemed to be gone, though the call was not cut off. Victor moved the phone from his ear and stared at the display with a frown for a moment before he put it back to his ear.

“Yuuri?” he asked. The sound was muffled with background noises, as if Yuuri wasn’t on his phone. Victor thought he heard faint barking and someone speak in broken English, but he couldn’t be sure.

“Yuuuuri…” Victor took a deep breath. Sighed. Looked at his watch.

There was a scramble and then Yuuri was back. “Sorry! There was just such a cute dog and I had to take some pictures of him dancing with the water.”

For a moment Victor was taken aback. Was this what it felt like for other people when he dropped everything because he was distracted by dogs?

“You don’t mind that Chris is not coming?” Victor asked eventually.

“Not at all. I know this is a terrible thing to say about your boss and a work meeting, but really, we can go over these things on the train home!”

That’s exactly what Chris said, Victor thought but didn’t say out loud.

“Oh my god!”

“What?” Victor shot up on the couch. “Yuuri, what happened?”

“Nothing.” Yuuri sounded somewhat pained. “It’s just that someone just walked by with a panini and it looked and smelt so good! And wow, I sound exactly like someone who spends way too much time with Phichit Chulanont.”

A faint rustle was heard, much like someone was digging through shopping bags.

“I might have to open my mother’s biscuits in a moment and eat those, I’m so hungry,” Yuuri said.

“Yuuri, where exactly are you?” Victor was on the edge of his seat now, literally.

Soft laughter resounded through the phone.

“To be honest, I don’t really know. I took the underground to the closest stop for this meeting and went up and there I am in the most wonderful place I’ve ever been in. I feel so happy here, I don’t even know why.”

“And you don’t know where you are?”

“Some kind of piazza.”

Victor laughed. That wasn’t much to go on.

“There’s skyscrapers around and this water area in the middle with a fountain, lots of cafes and shops… oh. And there’s a Tesla store. If that helps.”

“Okay, I know where you are.” Victor stood up and started unbuttoning his shirt.

“Don’t order food yet, just wait for me, Yuuri. I’ll be there in half an hour, maybe before that.”

“Not even ice-cream?” Yuuri sounded disappointed.

“Not even ice-cream. You don’t know what the best one is.” Victor slid his shirt off his shoulders.

“Victor, this is Italy. Any ice-cream is the best one.” Yuuri huffed down the phone.

“Yuuuuri! Just trust me on this.” Victor pouted even though Yuuri couldn’t see him.

“Okay.”

“Stay where you are. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“Oh, I’m never leaving this place, so don’t worry.”

Victor had the quickest shower of his life, thew on black pants and a clean white shirt, and had reception call him a taxi to Piazza Gae Aulenti.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Yuuri slipped his phone into his pocket and started chewing on his bottom lip. Half an hour tops. It was a good thing Victor didn’t know how quickly Yuuri could eat ice-cream if he had to. He rose from the wall and looked around which direction people were coming from with ice-cream in their hands. He would be quick, and Victor would never know.

His phone buzzed in his pocket. He took it out and frowned when he saw it was Victor texting him.

_The best ice-cream is GROM_

_Corner shop, blue writing. Look out for people holding blue cups with white letters_

_Don’t even try anywhere else ;)_

For a moment Yuuri just stood there, staring at the phone in his hand and feeling called out. Then he laughed and headed in the direction the people with ice-cream in blue cups with white writing were coming from.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Victor found Yuuri holding his face into the evening sun with his eyes closed, small blue plastic spoon between his lips and an empty ice-cream cup from GROM beside him.

“That good, is it?” he teased.

Yuuri’s eyes flew open and he sat in a normal position again.

“Isn’t this place amazing? I must have been here for over an hour and I still feel like I want to stay another year.”

Victor watched Yuuri’s excitement quietly, hands in his pockets, smile on his face.

“Victor!” Yuuri looked at him, eyes wide and sparkling behind his glasses. “When I came up from the underground I saw that building, the one with all the trees and plants growing on the outside. It’s amazing. I hope I can crop the surrounding buildings out of the photos a little so that it gets more focus.”

Victor bit back a smile, tickled by Yuuri’s enthusiasm and knowing what Yuuri didn’t yet know.

“D’you want to sit down?” Yuuri asked, starting to move his shopping bags to the ground by his feet.

Victor shook his head. “Let’s go.”

“Go where?”

“Dinner.” Victor smiled. “You’ve fed me so many times, Yuuri. Let me return the favour.”

“Oh.” Yuuri’s eyes widened. “Dinner sounds excellent. Although…” He cast a look around the square, looking a little sad to have to leave.

“We can’t just have dinner in one of these?” he asked hopefully, nodding at one of the cafes.

“We can come back here afterwards.” Victor laughed. He nodded at the tree-like construction in the middle of the square. “The solar tree lights up the square in the evening, with the energy from those solar panels.”

“Solar tree…” Yuuri repeated, looking at the construction with new awe.

Finally he stood and assembled his shopping bags, placing the handles over his elbows so that he could pick up the empty ice-cream cup as well and discard it in the next waste basket they came by.

Victor started walking, and he knew he was probably rambling as he told Yuuri about sustainable territorial development and how this area had been a railway depot in the past but had been completely revamped into a public botanic garden. They came past vast stretches of green. People were sitting on benches or lying in the grass, dogs walking about or playing, the Unicredit skyscraper towering over everything.

Victor turned left and bit back a smile when Yuuri gasped and froze beside him.

“Victor! We’re walking right towards it!” He stared at the Bosco Verticale in front of them.

“I know.” Watching him, Victor laughed. “You won’t have to crop any photos.”

He waited patiently and held Yuuri’s shopping while Yuuri took photo after photo. A young woman walking by with a dog asked if they would like her to take a photo of the two of them together, and they agreed right away. She crouched down on her knees as far as she possibly could to make sure she got as much of the Bosco Verticale as possible in the picture with them. They thanked her profusely and petted her dog for good measure before she went on into the small dog park close by.

Victor waited, arms full of Yuuri's shopping, until Yuuri had looked his fill of the building. 

“I didn’t know I needed this.” Yuuri heaved a sigh when they continued on their way.

There were barely any cars as they walked down the street until they came to an iron gate that stood open and led into what looked like a fenced garden. A 19th century liberty style villa loomed straight ahead, waiters coming in and out of the centre glass door serving people sitting on the terrace to the left and right under white umbrellas, half hidden from view behind square flower pots holding what looked like bonsai trees. There was a small playground to their right, and to their left an abundance of green, grass and trees interspersed with neat concrete patterns in some places and gravel walks in others, as well as accurately laid out…

“Vegetable beds?” Yuuri asked and looked at Victor, surprised.

Victor nodded. “They grow their own ingredients here, with the community.”

Benches here and there invited to sit even when one was not visiting the restaurant, multi-coloured chairs and tables were placed under a wooden awning near the herb beds. Yuuri said he felt like he had entered some kind of secret garden.

Inside the restaurant, Victor pointed out railway iron that had been used in the restaurant’s furnishings to pay homage to the district’s history as a railway deposit.

They were seated at a small table for two right in the middle of the restaurant, next to a square pillar that held the base of a large industrial lamp the light of which shone not on their table but the neighbouring one. Yuuri looked around with interest.

Victor loved coming back here every time. He loved the homely feeling of the frayed backs of the chairs and the decorations thrown in here and there, books in nooks in the walls, an old typewriter and an accordion on a window sill. A huge floor-to-ceiling shelf held countless wine bottles in square compartments. It also separated the kitchen from the restaurant, for one of the compartments was left open and allowed a small window to look into the kitchen, and the plates were left there by the chef for the waiters to serve to guests. 

They were handed menus that were single sheets of paper clipped onto small wooden boards. A waiter came and turned over the water glasses that were recycled wine bottles, cut and smoothened on the edges so that they could be drinking glasses, pouring sparking mineral water for them.

“Can we interest you in our aperitif?” he asked. “It’s a pink prosecco with a dash of vermouth and lemon, and home-grown rosemary from our garden.”

“Oh, absolutely,” Victor said unceremoniously. Yuuri grinned at him across the table.

Victor had a small basket of bread brought for them and insisted Yuuri eat some bread and butter first before drinking. He had no interest in getting Yuuri drunk.

Yuuri ordered Vitello tonnato and zucchini risotto, Victor chose pasta with bacon in a creamy green sauce of herbs and peas, and an eggplant gratin. They sampled each other’s food and couldn’t decide what tasted better because everything was fantastic. The table was small and there was no way their legs could not touch under the table, and the restaurant was full so they had to lean in close to have a conversation. At some point Victor realised he was resting his elbow on the table, chin in his palm as he listened to Yuuri talk, wondering why he had never really noticed before how plush and delectable Yuuri’s lips were. He blamed the wine they had with their food and poured them the rest of the water from the second bottle they’d ordered.

Their waiter came back and asked if they would like an espresso or the dessert menu.

“Would you like dessert, Yuuri?” Victor asked.

“I would, but… I’d like it to be more ice-cream from that nice place?” Yuuri’s eyes sparkled.

Victor laughed and ordered two _espressi_. 

It was too crowded in the narrow space by the bar where the waiter was getting their bill ready and waiters as well as patrons were going in and out, so Yuuri told Victor he would wait outside and followed one of the waiters out who was just carrying a tray of drinks outside.

When Victor stepped outside a short time later, dusk was setting and completely transforming the area into something magical. Only the ground floor of the villa had the lights on, though there were spotlights under the roof, above the outer first floor windows and above the door.

They left the restaurant grounds though another iron gate, this one out the back, and made their way back towards the lights of Piazza Gae Aulenti. People were still everywhere, sitting in groups or pairs spread out all over the many green patches. Someone was playing guitar and singing ‘La Cintura’ in a group they passed, some of the young people dancing on the grass and the path immediately next to it, pulling passersby into a spontaneous dance. Including Yuuri, who quickly pushed all his shopping on Victor before he joined a laughing young woman in a brief dance, while the rest of her group was clapping and singing to cheer them on.

_Y bajando, bajando,_

_Olvidando, olvidando_

_Que estoy bailando bailando_

_Y así hasta el amanecer_

Laughing, Yuuri stepped away from his impromptu dance partner and waved a cheerful goodbye. He took his shopping bags from Victor, who had looked on, laughing, complimenting Yuuri on his dancing. Yuuri gave a little snorting laugh and said meekly that being friends with Leo de la Iglesia taught one many things.

When they stepped into GROM, still heaving with customers at this time,Victor reached into his back pocket for his wallet but Yuuri shook his head quite adamantly and shoved his shopping at Victor again.

“You paid for dinner,” he said and reached for his own wallet. “This is my treat. Now, what do you like?”

They chose their ice-cream flavours and stepped out into the square again a little while later, Yuuri holding two large blue cups. Instead of trying to find a seat around the water they decided to sit in the grass, too, like so many other people around them. They chose a spot that still allowed them to catch a glimpse of the multicoloured lights in the square if they wanted.

Yuuri groaned about having eaten too much, which made Victor laugh, regarding the three huge scoops of sorbet Yuuri was holding in a GROM cup in his hands.

“Ice-cream doesn’t count,” Yuuri said. “There’s always room for ice-cream.”

They sat in the grass, facing each other, outstretched legs side by side but not touching, Yuuri’s ever present shopping bags by his side.

Victor’s phone sounded with an incoming message and he apologised to Yuuri before checking it.

“Milochka,” he said and put the phone away again with a shake of his head. “Sent me a list of stuff she would like me to bring for her.” He laughed. “Trust her to do that on the last evening. I’ll have to see if I can make time for shopping tomorrow morning before we’re off.”

“You could shop _now?_ ” Yuuri asked, staring into his ice-cream.

Victor watched Yuuri muster the spoon in his sorbet with interest, wondering if he had really heard disappointment in Yuuri’s suggestion or if he was merely wishing he had.

“No.” Victor savoured more of his ice-cream. “She should have told me sooner.”

“Mila’s quite a character,” Yuuri smiled. And that was _definitely_ relief, Victor was sure.

“I’m glad she’s here,” Victor said between two spoons of ice-cream. “She’s too bold and loud, even for Russia. And Yakov and Lilia were getting a bit lonely since I’ve moved out.”

“She seems calmer with Sara though,” Yuuri remarked.

Victor laughed softly. “I was going to tell Sara this already, but now I think I’ll save that piece of information for when I have to make a speech at their wedding some day. Mila already liked Sara when she was a little girl.”

Yuuri looked up, ice-cream spoon pausing halfway to his mouth. “But they didn’t know each other!”

“I brought photos when I went to visit my _babushka_. Mila would look at them with us. She would point at Sara and ask me who that pretty girl is. She always asked me about Sara, always wanted to look at her pictures.”

“Was her family… angry? That she’s a lesbian?” Yuuri asked.

Victor shook his head. “They were getting afraid for her though. You know Mila, she is quite brash. She never made a secret of the fact that she prefers girls. She didn’t want to hide. She took kickboxing and self-defence classes and thought nothing could happen to her. She never took any bullshit. But there was an incident, somewhere else in Russia, though it wasn’t featured prominently on the news. Someone thought they could… _fix_ their lesbian daughter. Do you know what ‘corrective rape’ is?”

Yuuri’s eyes narrowed. He nodded slowly, ice-cream forgotten.

“Homophobia was picking up in Russia. Mila’s family was getting scared for her, so they asked Yakov if he couldn’t take care of her. Bring her here. Have her finish school. Start a career. Live the life she wants. She could never have been free to be who she is in Russia. She always acted cool, but she told me some of the names she was called. She said she could never have told her family for the shame of being called that.”

“She’s got balls,” Yuuri said.

Victor smiled. “She does. She said since she came here, she finally didn’t feel dirty and abnormal anymore, like she was made in Russia.”

For a while they ate their ice-cream in silence, looking up when a man came by with two poodles and they both smiled, first at the dogs, then at each other.

“When I was in high school, I had a crush on my best friend.”

Victor looked up when Yuuri spoke.

“I never came on to him but we were close, as friends. At some point he just noticed. That my feelings for him were more than just friendship. Plus I was getting jealous and petty whenever he went out with some girl or other. He _demanded_ that I don’t think of him that way. That I don’t fantasise about him because it was taking something from him that he didn’t consent to. He thought what I felt and... thought about him was dirty and abnormal. He was so firm about it, he made me feel that, too. I felt dirty, perverted. Not normal. I believed that it was true that I had no right to have those feelings, those fantasies, those desires. I struggled a lot with my feelings after that.”

Yuuri gave a bitter little laugh. “You know, if I’d been a girl he would at least have felt flattered. He would still have rejected me, but in a much nicer way. But another boy having those feelings for him, that disgusted him.”

Victor longed to touch Yuuri so badly, to give him a hug. But they sat too far apart for that, and he wasn’t sure whether Yuuri would want to be touched at this very moment.

“Yuuri... I’m so sorry.” He tried to put a hug into his words instead. “He was wrong. You know that, right? Your thoughts and fantasies are yours alone, nobody has a say in them. Nobody. They are free. And your feelings... Yuuri. Love is the greatest gift you can give another person. He didn’t deserve it, but he had no right to pervert it into something dirty or abnormal. It’s painful enough that he couldn’t love you back, but he had no right to make you feel ashamed of it.”

“Mila thinks you’re trying to set me up with Chris.”

Victor froze. He felt like he was free falling, without parachute or safety net.

“Yuuri…” He swallowed hard. “What if I was? Trying to set you up with Chris, I mean. Would you let me?”

Moments turned into minutes as they looked at each other, the usual ease between them slowly thickening with tension. Yuuri’s eyes were wide with surprise. Victor held his breath, his heart hammering so loud in his chest that he was sure Yuuri must hear it. This was it, then. He would have to come clean about the bet. He would have to tell Yuuri everything, and Yuuri would be angry and all this, this friendship they had formed would come to an end, and the sudden punch of dread over not having this in his life made him feel sick to his stomach.

And then Yuuri began to laugh.

“I would _never_ let anyone set me up!” he exclaimed. “Not with Chris nor with anybody else! Phichit and Sara have tried and my reaction made sure they will never try that again. Set me up!” He snorted. “You should ask my family about what happened when they made me attend a _goukon_ with my sister when I was visiting home after graduating college.”

He laughed even harder and put down his ice-cream cup as if he was afraid of dropping it.

Victor felt himself slowly relax. Yuuri’s laughter was contagious, and soon he felt a smile of his own tugging tentatively on the corners of his mouth, despite his insides still somewhat heaving with the fear of having almost been caught out.

“What’s a... gou—?” he started but fell silent, trying to remember the word.

“ _Goukon_?”

Victor nodded.

“It’s like… a group dating thing in Japan. The person who organises it gets an equal number of men and women together, usually in a pub, and the goal is to pair people off into couples, and you play stupid drinking games to lower inhibitions. I get very shy around strangers, plus I don’t take kindly to being paired off with someone I have no interest in. So I got really drunk really quickly and ended up dancing on the table and hitting on the only cute guy there, which resulted in the girls hating me, the guys wanting to beat me up and my sister having to drag me out by the hem of my shirt before things got really ugly.”

“Wow...” Victor was staring at him open-mouthed, while Yuuri was doubling over with laughter again.

“I can get incredibly stupid when I’m drunk, I get that from my father, and that probably wasn’t funny towards the end, but what I remember of it always makes me laugh, because the idea of my meeting someone to love at a _goukon_ is just so ridiculous!”

“It could have been dangerous though... you said the guys wanted to beat you up?”

“I’m not sure they would have got to lay a finger on me though. Mari, my sister, she can get quite scary when it comes to protecting family.” Yuuri seemed amused.

“So... your family didn’t know before that you are…”

“Gay? I don’t know.”Yuuri shrugged. “I went out with some girls because I thought it’s what one should do, you know? But shouldn’t you decide at some point? Whether you’re gay or straight?”

Victor exhaled audibly.

“The way I see it, Yuuri, one falls in love with a person. Regardless of what is between their legs.” He grinned.

“That is exactly what Guang Hong would say.“

“I’ve always thought Guang Hong wise beyond his years.” Victor smiled.

Yuuri put his empty cup in the grass next to him. “It’s not really something you would talk about to your parents where I come from. They always knew I was shy, perhaps they believed I would just need a nudge in what they thought was the right direction. They just wanted to help, I’m sure. I never told them about my crush in high school, and I certainly didn’t tell them about the one steady boyfriend I had in college in the US. I’m sure they wouldn’t have minded, I just… didn’t.”

Victor cocked his head. “Why not?”

Yuuri shrugged. “Maybe I knew, deep inside, all the time we were together, that it wasn’t really the deep kind of love you want to hold on to? We had a really good relationship for as long as it lasted, but we never made plans for after college. When I thought about my life after graduation, I never saw him in there. And my parents, they get attached really quickly. The moment I’d introduce someone at home they would treat them as part of the family. I couldn’t bear it to have to take that away from them again. I don’t think they would mind or even be surprised if I brought home a guy… I just wouldn’t want it to hurt them if they got attached and then it wouldn’t last because that person wasn’t… you know. The one.”

“You want the big emotions then, Yuuri?”

Yuuri seemed to think about that for some minutes. He picked up the cup again and started picking at the remaining ice-cream with the little plastic spoon. Sighing, he put it back down.

“I like the idea of what Guang Hong and Leo have. Or even my parents, coming to think of it. That you find one person to spend your life with. That you can build your happiness and your life around that one person. Oh, and the best part - you can stop looking and going on stupid dates.”

He lay back in the grass, arms behind his head.

Victor smiled down at him wistfully. “You don’t like dating, Yuuri?”

“I think dating… I mean, casual dating, is just not for me. The girls who asked me out were mostly _otaku_ and the guys had a certain type, but their common motivation for asking _me_ out was that they were desperate for a pretty Asian boy.”

Victor laughed quietly but it didn’t sound happy. “I’ve been there. It’s disgusting when people only want you because you represent a certain type to them.”

Yuuri hummed. “And I don’t even hate dating per se. I wouldn’t mind going on a thousand cliché dates with the person I’m really in love with, but casual dating is a waste of my time and I don’t want that anymore.”

“You want to be romanced. Like in your Bollywood movies.”

„Not with the singing and dancing obviously...”

“Yuuuuuri! Why not?”

Their eyes met and they laughed.

Eventually Yuuri stopped laughing. Hummed again. “You think that’s stupid?”

“No,” Victor said quietly. “I think that’s wonderful.”

They remained silent for a moment.

“And your sister? After that incident? How did she react?” Victor asked in an attempt to reign in the suddenly frantic beating of his heart.

“Oh, Mari was brilliant about it. She said at least now she could stop worrying about me being lonely all my life. That it didn’t bother her who I love as long as they made me happy, and that she doesn’t care which kind of legs she needs to break if they break my heart, male or female.”

Yuuri laughed fondly at the memory.

“Then she gave me my first and only cigarette to smoke and I was violently sick, and then we spent the rest of the night sitting in a twenty-four hour family restaurant in Fukuoka waiting for the first train home in the morning, eating hamburgers and fries and just talking. It was amazing. The best time I’ve ever spent with my sister.”

“Yuuri, can I ask you something?” Victor started after they had been quiet again for some time, soaking up the other sounds surrounding them. Music. Voices. Dogs barking. Water splashing.

“Mhm?” Yuuri sat up again, pulling his knees to his chest and hugging them.

“Remember the day you mixed up Chris’ coffee?”

Yuuri snorted. “Like I could forget.”

“When you brought in the right coffee, there was a moment… you cleaned up the ashes he had dropped on his desk without showing even the slightest emotion, which I still find admirable. Chris looked at you for a long moment, like he was sizing you up and then dismissed you.”

A faint groan of recollection came from Yuuri.

“You looked so…”

“Disappointed,” Yuuri cut in soberly. “I was crushed with disappointment. You see, I’ve admired you for so long. The four of you, the idea of the four of your carrying on the family tradition. I thought you were this amazing team of young people at the top of this traditional company. Like a fresh breeze. And then Chris turned out to be such an…”

“Arsehole?” Victor provided.

Yuuri huffed in reply. “You said it, not me.”

“You don’t disagree.”

“I was really excited to become his secretary, you know. I knew Sara and she’s so nice. I thought you and Chris would be the same. When I saw him in videos or press conferences, he was always so cool, so charming. But then I started and I was shocked. As a person, he was…” Yuuri fell silent, brows crinkled.

“Why is it that I end up telling you things I find it hard to talk about with anyone else?” he asked, looking directly at Victor.

Victor held his gaze. I want to tell you things, too, Yuuri, he thought. I want to tell you about this friend of mine who is misread by the whole world. Who never learnt what it’s like to love and to be loved. Who behaves like an ass because he’d rather have people irritated by him than having to let someone into his heart. Who is terrified of people seeing who he really is. Just a neglected poor little rich boy. I want to tell you so many things.

“I don’t know, Yuuri,” was what he said out loud. “But it makes me feel very special.”

Yuuri snorted. “Like you need to feel any more special.”

They looked at each other for a moment, then Yuuri smiled and winked.

They made their way back across the piazza eventually, walking slowly while Yuuri paused to look around time and again as if drinking in the atmosphere and burning the pictures onto his memory before he silently said goodbye.

“So… do we call a taxi?” Yuuri asked when they reached the bottom of the escalator, watching the passing cars like he wondered if one just hailed a cab in Italy like one did in other countries.

“I have a better idea.” Yuuri’s eyes widened in surprise when Victor grabbed his hand and pulled him across several streets until they reached a tram stop. A tram was just approaching, doors already springing open with a loud clatter before it came to a full stop.

The old trams were rumbling so loud that is was nearly impossible to have a conversation. They laughed instead, watching people and taking pictures of the polished but hard wooden seats and the classy lamp shades hanging from the ceiling. Yuuri claimed nobody back home in Japan would believe him that trams such as this still not only existed but were actually in daily use. They were still giggling when the tram came to a rumbling halt outside the station and they got off, walking the short distance to their hotel. Every time their eyes met it would set them off again, all the way up in the lift and along the silent corridor until they reached the doors of their respective rooms.

“Thank you, Victor,” Yuuri looked at him, two doors down the hall. “For dinner, and for this evening, and for everything.”

It was like a reversal of when he left from Bollywood night, Victor thought. 

“Anytime.” He winked. Two could play that game. He still wanted to give Yuuri that hug, but the moment had passed about two hours ago.

It was only when Victor was lying in his hotel bed, letting the water from the shower dry on his body in the cool night air, that it occurred to him that he should probably feel more upset about Yuuri’s reactions to all things Chris if he ever wanted to win this bet.

But all he felt was relief.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The Sunday afternoon of that week found Victor and Sara in Yuuri’s kitchen. It was Sara’s turn to cook and she had already made an obscene amount of pizza dough that was currently spread out over three bowls, covered with clean tea towels, and placed on the living room window sill. Yuuri had offered to start cutting vegetables for pizza toppings and side dishes while they were waiting for the pizza dough to rise. Victor had taken Sara grocery shopping and brought her over to Yuuri’s.

Phichit was sitting at the kitchen table with his laptop, watching music videos on YouTube. He was actually trying to compile a playlist of Italian songs for the evening but kept being distracted by videos that kept popping up in the recommendations.

“This is my song. If anyone ever asks you what my favourite song is - this is it!” Phichit stared at Madcon’s ‘Glow’ on the laptop screen, sighing. “This is why I love living in Europe. I wish I had lived over here at the time, I would so be in one of those flashmobs!”

Another song started, some poppy 80s beat interspersed with what sounded like traditional Asian music.

Yuuri glanced over Phichit’s shoulder on his way from the worktop to the fridge and stopped short.

“What! Is that!” he exclaimed when he saw the woman in a kimono and what he supposed was meant to be a wig representing a Japanese hairdo, two wooden sticks poking crosswise though a small bun at the back of the sleek black, red-fringed bob. The song title read ‘Japanese Boy’.

“Now _that_ is cultural appropriation if I’ve ever seen one!” Phichit exclaimed.

“It’s not,” Yuuri said drily as he went back to his chopping board. “The song sounds Chinese.”

Phichit however seemed to have found a sudden interest in the song, picking up on the lyrics and commenting on them.

_Was it something I said or done? That made him pack his bags up and run? Could it be another he’s found?_

“Or could it possibly be your absolutely revolting hairdo, girl??” Phichit asked the screen.

Victor came into the kitchen and washed his hands. He poured over the pile of vegetables Yuuri was still planning on cutting, but Yuuri refused help and told him to have a drink instead.

“‘Mister, can you tell me where my love has gone? He’s a Japanese boy,’” Phichit quoted from the song. He looked up. “Yuuri, you slut, what have you done to this poor woman? Look at her, she’s taking it hard.”

Yuuri laughed over the tomatoes he was cutting.

“Oh, but there’s a German version of it,” Victor said. “Not quite as terrible.”

“The lyrics went something like ‘Your home is where you’re being loved‘…” Victor spoke quietly as he leaned in, his face mere inches away from Yuuri’s. Yuuri smiled faintly but didn’t cease cutting up tomatoes for bruschetta.

“…’oh my Japanese boy’…” Victor added the next part of the song. Yuuri stopped cutting. Victor stepped back. Yuuri cast a panicked look at Phichit who was luckily still glued to the screen. The last thing Yuuri needed was for his best friend to corner him and demand to know just what the hell was going on between him and Victor. Like Yuuri would have been able to provide an answer.

“Victor! Remember how Ciao Ciao played all those songs?” Sara called over from the sofa.

“Ciao Ciao has always had a terrible taste in music,” Victor said as he walked back into the living room.

“And do you remember how pissed off Mickey was because you came from Russia and you still knew all the words to ‘Felicità’?”

“I still do!” Victor laughed. “It was a massive hit in Russia.”

Sara was leaning over the back of the sofa now. “And you had such a crush on Romina Power!” She winked at Yuuri, who was turning around, hanging onto their lips. He was a sucker for those stories from their childhood.

“She was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen in my seven-year-old life!” Victor insisted. 

“She had no moves, Victor. _No_ moves!”

“She had better moves than that denim-clad singer _you_ had a crush on!”

“Phichit.” Sara jumped up from the sofa and rushed over to Phichit. She pulled out a chair and sat by his side, typing something into the search. “That song has to go on the playlist!”

A video started playing that had Victor slightly protesting and Sara giggling. Yuuri cast a stolen glance at the woman on the screen. She really was very beautiful.

“Wow, Victor, she really has no moves!” Phichit commented dryly. Sara laughed out loud.

“Now yours, Sara,” Phichit said, and Sara started typing a name into the search again. She chose a TV performance of the song she was looking for. The singer came running onto the stage, clad completely in denim, shaggy short hair with a blond patch on one side. It was almost stereotypical.

“Oh wow! She looks very… lesbian,” Phichit caught himself the last minute from saying something mean.

Sara had propped her face up on one elbow and sat sighing at the screen. 

“She looks all sweaty and sexed out. Did you fap over that, Sara?” Phichit winked.

“Oh you bet I did,” Sara grinned while from behind them they could hear Yuuri hissing Phichit’s name.

They watched the song until the end and put it on the playlist, then Sara called up another video by the same singer, claiming that this was her favourite song.

“Mickey was livid because he thought I shouldn’t be listening to that song about pretty young men in love and watch the video that was full of them, but in truth I was only ever watching it for her.” She sighed again.

“One of her early records was quite a scandal at the time. It was a song about masturbation.”

“What?” Phichit nearly snorted out his drink.

Sara nodded, eyes sparkling. “And not hidden or something. It was full on ‘she bites her lips and finds her America… give your body to yourself… let me make love really hard and find America.’”

“And did you find America, Sara?” Phichit dodged a playful slap from Yuuri.

She nodded, eyes dancing. “Talk about sexual awakening. It wasn’t banned in Italy but most record shops refused to sell it, the power of the Catholic Church was that strong. My parents and Mickey would have killed me if they had ever found out. I hid the CD under my mattress, in the case of some boring church music nobody ever listened to.”

“How did you come by the CD if it wasn’t sold in Italy?” Yuuri asked, looking up from the chopping board.

“Victor got it for me. Chris and Victor always got me the naughty things I couldn’t get my hands on in Catholic Italy and with Mickey constantly breathing down my neck. They smuggled it in to Italy.”

“Yes, but that particular CD... before I could pack it for Sara, Yakov found it.” Victor had joined them in the kitchen, leaning against the fridge with his hands behind his back. “The cover actually showed the Statue of Liberty, but instead of the torch she was holding a vibrator. Yakov’s face was epic.” Victor laughed.

“Victor and Chris burnt lesbian porn from the internet on CDs for me, and when I turned 18 they whisked me off to a weekend in Hamburg.” Sara looked fondly at Victor.

“That’s a nice present,” Phichit said.

“Oh, that wasn’t the present,” Victor smirked.

Sara looked like the cat that got the cream. “We did all the touristy stuff of course, but the actual present was that they took me to the biggest sex shop in Europe, told me to get whatever I want, and they paid for everything.”

“We had to buy an extra little suitcase and some alibi clothes to hide all that stuff under.” Victor chuckled. “Sara was terrified that the suitcase would fall open while Mickey carried it from the car to her room.”

“And Mickey didn’t get a present from you two?” Phichit asked Victor.

“Oh, he did, but that is a story I couldn’t possibly tell in front of Sara.” Victor actually blushed a little.

“They went to Mallorca and lay on the beach for three days,” Sara snorted.

“Yes, that’s what we let _you_ believe, darling.” Victor’s grin was positively dirty.

Sara was speechless for the first time since Yuuri and Phichit had met her.

Phichit’s face was the human manifestation of the hashtag #friendshipgoals.

Yuuri smiled while he kept working his way through the vegetables. Sara and Victor had a different dynamic between them than Victor did with Chris. After having met Michele, he could see how in a group of four friends, pairs would automatically form of two people who are closer. With Sara and Michele being twins this left Chris and Victor to make up the other duo. Yet Sara and Victor together were double cheerful and affectionate, while Michele and Chris drew something brooding and melancholy from each other when it was just the two of them. Yuuri tried to imagine what it would be like to have a friend you’d known since your earliest childhood.

A look passed between him and Phichit and they both knew what the other was thinking.

“You guys have such a great friendship to look back on!” Phichit exclaimed, not without drama. “I wish we’d met earlier! _Yuuri_ , imagine the stories we could tell!”

“Peach, I’ve known you all of two years and I have already more stories to tell than I have from a whole shared childhood with my sister!” Yuuri laughed.

Sara was typing on the keyboard again, announcing that she was going to put some Italian songs on that playlist. The knife stilled in Yuuri’s hand when a poppy Italo disco number came on that seemed painfully familiar. He could feel Victor’s eyes on him, piercing into him from somewhere by the fridge. Yuuri didn’t look up. He couldn’t risk another glance between them like the one in that changing room. If Phichit noticed, he would never hear the end of it.

“That’s my favourite lyric!” he heard Sara say. “‘If the world comes tumbling down, it’s because I love you.’”

_Se cade il mondo, sarà perché ti amo._

_If the world comes tumbling down, it’s because I love you._

Yuuri’s whole being clenched with déjà vu. He kept his eyes firmly on the yellow peppers on the chopping board in front of him, but he wasn’t cutting. Almost as if Victor’s eyes on him across the small distance were paralysing him. He willed himself not to look up, though Victor could probably see from the other side of the kitchen how tense he was.

He only relaxed and resumed cutting again when Sara played some more songs and her playlist came slowly together. The repetitive motions of chopping vegetables calmed him, and Victor having moved away from the kitchen helped to regain his composure. Yuuri looked briefly over his shoulder. Victor had said he’dcheck on the pizza dough, but Yuuri saw him crouching down cuddling the dogs now, and Yuuri knew he hadn’t been alone back in that changing room in their memories just now.

Sara insisted on more songs by her favourite singer.

“Look at those beautiful eyes. And her voice! It’s so husky and breathy. She sounds like nobody else. If you could fuck a voice I’d fuck this one.” Sara sighed at the screen all over again, her head close to Phichit’s. “Don’t tell Mila, but I would still get under that any day. She’s my forever crush.”

“Maybe Mila has a forever crush of her own that she wouldn’t mind getting under,” Phichit threw in grinning. “Don’t you talk about these things?”

“Phichit,” Yuuri warned.

But Phichit was on a roll, apparently.

“Yuuri’s told Victor all about his Bollywood actress crush.” He winked at Sara.

“Phichit Chulanont, unless you want me to gut you with this vegetable knife, I suggest you shut up!” Yuuri glared at him and threw cubes of bell pepper into a big colander with more force than necessary.

Victor came back into the kitchen and went to the sink to wash his hands again.

Their eyes met and Victor smiled understandingly at Yuuri with a little shake of his head that said ‘Never mind, I know what’s it like to have really embarrassing friends.’

Another Italo disco song came from Phichit’s laptop.

“Remember how we used to dance to this, Victor?” Sara looked up at him. “Mickey never even wanted to let me dance with you or Chris, leave alone any other boys.”

Victor groaned, standing beside Sara and looking down at the laptop screen. “All those songs were already so old when we danced to them. But we loved it.”

“You dance, Victor?” Yuuri asked, surprised.

Victor laughed. “Only Disco Fox. It’s what we did in the kiddie disco.” And he blushed.

Sara got up to fetch herself a glass of water. “It wasn’t a real disco, just something Ciao Ciao pulled off in the backroom of the pizzeria. He pushed all the furniture out of the way, darkened the room, put up fairy and disco lights, and then he played all this cheesy old music for all the neighbourhood kids to dance. We loved it, it was so much fun.”

“The kiddie disco,” Yuuri repeated. He was still looking at Victor like Sara’s whole explanation hadn’t happened.

“I was a kid once, too.” Victor shrugged.

“Somehow I find that very hard to believe.” The smile was tugging at the corners of Yuuri’s lips.

“Yuuuuri! I wasn’t born in a three-piece suit.”

“Again, I find that very hard to believe.” Grinning fully now, Yuuri shook his head.

“Victor had the most ridiculous taste in clothes when he was a kid!” That was Sara, suddenly draped across Victor’s back. “And he was the most beautiful teenager! Long silver hair all the way down to his butt. All the girls were jealous. And madly in love with him.”

Yuuri, who had gone to rinse the chopped vegetables in the sink, stopped mid-movement and stared at Victor, eyes wide. “Really?” he asked, vegetables forgotten as he turned the slightest bit in their direction.

“Saa-raaa...” Victor muttered, embarrassed, but he covered her hands affectionally with his where her arms came around his shoulders from behind. He barely dared look Yuuri in the eye.

“Yuuri… you’re dripping water all over the place,” Victor reminded him gently.

“Oh.” Yuuri quickly placed the colander in the sink and reached for the roll of kitchen paper to mop up the mess. Something Victor had said to him in Milan came back to his mind suddenly.

_It’s disgusting when people only want you because you represent a certain type to them._

Was that what Victor had been to some people, younger, with long hair? He must have been something of an ethereal fairy princess.

“And remember that one guy you kneed in the balls because he thought you were a girl and wouldn’t stop groping you, Victor?”

Okay, maybe not. And Yuuri knew he shouldn’t ask, but...

“Are there pictures?” he asked, and didn’t dare turn back around. Instead he concentrated very hard on gently moving the colander around. Nobody had ever been so thorough in rinsing dinner vegetables.

“Of long-haired Victor?” He could _hear_ the smirk in Sara’s voice. “Tons. I’ll show you next time.”

“And the kiddie disco?” Yuuri smiled over the sink when he heard Sara promise she would dig up some, despite Victor protesting vehemently.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Yuuri jerked awake, panting. It took him a moment to come to, his dream had been so vivid. Then he remembered. The pictures Sara had still sent him when she came home. They had haunted him all the way into his dreams.

Long-haired Victor in a suit.

Yuuri groaned. His face was flushing with embarrassment, but the pictures wouldn’t stop, whether his eyes were open or closed. He kept seeing Victor, long-haired Victor, smiling that sultry smile of his, and Yuuri’s cock jerked angrily against the confines of his shorts, throbbing, leaking. His hand sneaked down under the waistband and he gripped himself tight, setting a fast pace that matched his ragged breathing. In his dreams Victor had had long hair, and Yuuri had fucked him. He brought the images back to life in his mind’s eye. How Victor would feel around him. How it would feel to grab a handful of his long hair and yank his head back by it. Yuuri came hard, sounds of pleasure muffled by the pillow he buried his face in.

Victor’s voice came to mind, what he had told Yuuri in Milan, unaware that it applied to himself.

_Your thoughts and fantasies are yours alone, nobody has a say in them. Nobody. They are free._

And it might have held the shame at bay, but it did nothing to quench the thirst.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“Katsudon!”

Yuuri looked up to find Yura staring down at him over his desk.

“You said you had something to give me before the meeting.”

“Right.” Yuuri reached under his desk for the glossy black paper bag.

“You don’t have to accept it if you think it’s weird.” Yuuri still had the bag close to his chest, out of Yura’s reach. “I personally don’t think it’s a gift you give someone you don’t know too well, but it just struck me as something _you_ might like, so...”

“Yeah, yeah, stop the rambling, Katsudon, just let me see!” Yura held out his hand.

He snatched the shopping bag from Yuuri’s hands and peered inside.

Yuuri watched him carefully, squirming a little in his seat with nerves. Confusion followed by recognition chased across Yura’s face. Something lit up those green eyes that made Yuuri relax.

“Thank you.” Yura looked up, his face struggling a little into the happy expression that didn’t seem to come easy to it. And then he smiled. It looked almost timid.

Yuuri couldn’t help but smile back. He felt both relieved and glad.

Chris’ door flew open and he came strutting out.

“You gentlemen _will_ grace us with your presence at the meeting, _non_?” he asked with one eyebrow raised.

Yuuri jumped up immediately. “Of course! Sorry, Chris!”

He hurried ahead across the hall and into the conference room, though Yura took his sweet time making his way over and actually made Chris wait by the door until he could close it behind him, two pairs of green eyes shooting daggers at each other for a moment.

The last part of this weekly meeting concerned the annual staff summer party. Sara and Phichit were there to present the flyer and things they had planned on their end, like a photo booth, live videos, and of course Phichit and Yura would be taking pictures all the time.

Yuuri couldn’t help but smile smugly to himself every time he saw Yura throw sneaky glances into his gift bag and try to bite back a grin. When Phichit reached for the bag with curiosity, Yura snatched it away and glared at him.

Chris was currently giving a quick run-through of all the things planned for the staff party.

“Perhaps you could have a look at the catering proposals again and see if they’re up to date.” Chris handed Yuuri a folder. “Ciao Ciao always delivers pizza but there are some others in there, and some new parties interested.”

“Sure.” Yuuri nodded and placed the folder in front of him on the table.

“Last but not least, for the children we have the usual - bouncy castle, face painting, pop-up sweets shop, and that guy who does those giant bubbles and the balloon animals. Should we cut back on the sweets and offer some more healthy snacks?” Chris asked. “Go with the times, so to say?”

“Noooo!” Victor and Sara exclaimed almost simultaneously. They looked crestfallen.

“The sweets shop is one of the highlights for the kids every year!” Sara insisted.

“It’s also one of _your_ highlights every year.“ Chris looked back and forth between Victor and Sara. Then he smiled, as fondly as Yuuri had never seen him, ever.

Chris gathered his notes into a pile and looked around at everyone.

“If anyone still has any suggestions, please don’t hesitate to come forward. It’s always great to change things up a little. I feel like we’ve been doing the same things for the last couple of years.”

It was quiet for a moment, the kind of silence that had people shrugging faintly and looking very concentratedly everywhere else but at the person asking the question. 

Then Yuuri spoke.

“How about a kiddie disco?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translation of the Italian phrases:
> 
> Macché! - something like "No way!" or "What are you suggesting?" in this situation  
> Che bellissimo! - How beautiful!, 'bellissimo' being the superlative of 'bello' (beautiful)  
> È troppo buono per te. - He is too good for you.  
> Meraviglioso! - Wonderful!  
> Stronzo! - Arsehole!  
> Yeah, I know. The UST is driving _me_ crazy too. :) My favourite chapter is coming up next, and things will happen in it.


	6. Who's Gonna Drive You Home Tonight?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summer Party! It's Victor's favourite day. Will he still think so at the end of it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Most of this chapter has been written for many, many weeks now, basically from the moment I started this story, and I have been dying to get these moments out there! I hope you like them even a little bit as much as I enjoyed writing them.
> 
> I use British English so I call soccer football, and football is _American_ football to me. Also, I think what I call the ground floor is the first floor in the US and other countries too, so the ground floor here is the one on ground level, and my first floor is probably your second. ;) 
> 
> You might have noticed that I've added an overall chapter count now. Since they all end up so long, it's lower than I thought it would be, but I do what the plot demands me to do. 
> 
> I hope you are all well and safe in these trying days. Take good care everyone and stay healthy. *sends virtual hugs* 💖

**6 – Who’s Gonna Drive You Home Tonight?**

The Saturday of the summer party dawned bright and beautiful, fulfilling the wish of every person who had prayed for perfect weather on that day. Yuuri found himself up at the crack of dawn, wincing when he stepped out into the street with Vicchan because this was way before his body functioned on a Saturday. His footsteps sounded almost loud in the deserted streets that were just waking up, nothing open yet but the first bakeries. Yuuri sighed as the aroma of freshly baked bread hit him from one open door, the display piled high with rolls and pretzels and pastries in the warm shop lights. A supermarket on the way got a delivery of goods, and Yuuri crossed the street rather than jogging around the huge beeping truck with Vicchan. The doors to the park were opened early in summer. Yuuri slowed down as they passed their usual gate, smiling faintly when he saw Victor already waiting with coffee and Makkachin by what had become their usual bench.

“Good morning, Yuuri!” Victor looked wide awake and extremely cheerful.

Yuuri winced. “How can you be in such a good mood this early in the morning?”

He slumped down beside Victor on the bench and gratefully accepted the coffee handed to him.

“Today’s my favourite day,” Victor said as if that explained everything. He took some dog treats from his pocket and fed them to Makkachin and Vicchan without much ado, adding pats for good measure.

Yuuri was sipping his coffee slowly, trying to wake up despite the blood pumping through his body after his run. He crinkled his nose when he felt his T-shirt cling to his body where he’d worked up a sweat.

A faint rustle of paper was heard, then Victor held out a muffin to him.

Yuuri hummed in approval. “You’re a lifesaver. Thank you.” He took the muffin and bit right into it, making a small happy sound because it was still a little warm and dark chocolate and raspberry burst into flavour on his tongue.

“I learned from the best.” Victor grinned.

For a little while they sat in silence, enjoying coffee and muffins, watching their two poodles playing in the grass at their feet, chasing squirrels or each other.

“Where’s Vicchan staying later today?” Victor asked eventually, watching the small poodle fondly as he dug into the grass with vigour chasing a cheeky insect.

“At first with Guang Hong, and then when Guang Hong’s coming to the party he’ll leave him and Shi with a neighbour who sometimes looks after them for us.” Yuuri crumbled the muffin paper in one hand and placed it by his side on the bench. He rubbed his hands to get rid of crumbs.

“Makka?” He asked Victor, but she still came over, having heard her name. Yuuri bent down to hug her, burying his face in her fur like he loved to do. It still surprised him that he could love another dog just as much as Vicchan, but Makka just did that to him. She had carved out a Makkachin-shaped space for herself in his heart from day one.

“Same,” Victor replied absentmindedly, holding his face up into the early morning sun. “We’re leaving her with a neighbour. Or rather his daughter, because it earns her a little pocket money.”

Yuuri hummed, trying to ignore the sting of the word. _We_. He could never tell whether it was intentional like a warning, or a slip of the tongue when Victor seemed preoccupied like he did now. Victor still didn’t talk to him about that significant other Yuuri knew he must have. It was just this one tiny word with its huge impact, stumbling inadvertently into their conversations. Yuuri could handle one word. For the sake of his friendship with Victor. For Makkachin. Victor must never know that Yuuri had started having dreams about him that resulted in him masturbating as desperately as he hadn’t since his early teens.

An alarm Yuuri had set on his phone went down.

“I have to go.” Yuuri sighed. “I’m meeting Otabek and the Nishigoris to set up the room.”

“The _room_.” Victor chuckled quietly. He lowered his head and opened his eyes to look at Yuuri. “I can’t wait to see it.”

Yuuri bit his lip, trying to hold back a grin. “ _If_ you get in. We’ll check IDs, you know, like in every disco.”

“Yuuuuri!” Victor made as much of a crestfallen gasping face as he could muster, hands on his cheeks.

Still struggling to keep up a straight face, Yuuri stood up and walked the couple of steps to the rubbish bin to throw away his empty coffee cup and muffin paper.

“I’ll see you later.” Yuuri smiled down at Victor. “Let’s see if your favourite day lives up to its reputation.”

Victor laughed softly. “Oh, it will, Yuuri, you’ll see.”

The dogs didn’t want to be separated as usual, and Yuuri ended up bending down to clip Vicchan’s leash on while Victor held on to Makka and promised her she would get to see Vicchan again tomorrow.

“Do I get a stamp on my wrist? So that I can go out and come back in again?” Victor asked, eyes dancing.

Yuuri froze, still halfway bent over. “Damn! Why didn’t _I_ think of that?” He frowned as he straightened up.

He took his out phone and was connected to Yūko before he had reached the park gate, waving goodbye to Victor and tugging on Vicchan’s leash in doing so.

“ _moshi moshi_ , Yūko-san. _ano_ … do the triplets have any stamps?”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The multi-purpose community building that was rented every year for the summer party was located in one corner of the city’s largest park. The immediately adjoining green belonged with the property, including a football pitch. Yuuri’s jaw had positively dropped the first time he came over to inspect the venue for planning purposes because it was just so large. It was as if they had a park of their own at their disposal. Walls and fences almost three metres high closed off the area from the street and the rest of the park, all of them overgrown with different kinds of vines and climbing plants that were like a living colourful protective shield from unwelcome views and visitors.

The building itself was a three-storey cube, the two upper levels being continuous glass fronts whereas the ground floor was just concrete interspersed with doors and window. A staircase was built into the concrete front, wide stone steps ascending to a set of glass doors which led into the entrance hall on the first floor of the building. Inside, a large hall took up almost the whole first floor, perfect for expositions or receptions. Doors led off left and right to bathrooms and small conference rooms. The upper floor housed an auditorium, more bathrooms, and a backstage area mostly used as changing rooms and storage for the concerts and other performances taking place in the building.

The ground floor held all kinds of practical rooms. There was a kitchen that could be used by patrons for their events, cloakrooms, as well as changing rooms including showers for the football matches that took place on the pitch outside. All of these rooms were directly accessible from the park.

The building had its own bypass road for guests and deliverers, and Takeshi was just pulling up by one of the many doors in a rental van when Yuuri arrived.

Yuuri could see other employees milling about, carrying boxes and equipment in and out. Most of them he had encountered at work some way or another. They were doing their own kinds of preparations, and not even Yuuri knew all of the things other departments had planned for the day as there were several planning committees at work and he couldn’t wait to see what all of them were doing.

Yūko hopped out the van on the passenger side.

“ohayo, Yuuri-kun,” she said cheerfully. “We have about two hours at most before our neighbour will lose her marbles minding the triplets for us.”

“Does that already include the coffee date we’re sneaking in since we have a rare chance to be alone?” Takeshi asked, grinning widely as he slammed Yuuri on the back in greeting.

Yūko laughed and held out a plastic case to Yuuri. “All we had is this.”

Yuuri’s face lit up at the sight of what seemed to him like an unexpected greeting from home, the cute small plastic suitcase with Japanese writing. Through the transparent glittery lid he could see an assortment of several small _Sumikko Gurashi_ stamps including two stamp pads, one red, one pink.

“It’s perfect,” Yuuri grinned.

Otabek Altin arrived at this very moment on his motorbike. He was a colleague of Seung-gil’s in finances, and Seung-gil had put Yuuri in touch with him knowing that in his free time Otabek did DJ stints in small clubs all over the city and sometimes beyond. When Yuuri approached him Otabek had been game right away, claiming he had an expert by his side in little sister. Between her and the triplets, Yuuri’s kiddie disco came together in no time.

Takeshi had picked up Otabek’s DJ equipment on the way. When he opened the doors to the back of the van, Yuuri stood next to him for a moment with Otabek and laughed. This was going to be brilliant, and everything he needed was right here in the back of this van, except for the drinks, which he would get from one of the catering deliveries.

Between the four of them they set up one of the ground floor rooms as a proper little disco. They hung black cloth over all the walls and windows and arranged balloons and strings of fairy lights and glow-in-the-dark stars on them. Two walls were lined with balance benches Takeshi had borrowed from the triplets’ school so that the kids could sit and rest whenever they wanted. Otabek had brought proper disco lights with his DJ equipment and even a disco ball.

Takeshi pulled Yūko into a spontaneous dance under the disco ball when Otabek did a soundcheck and tested all the lights.

The tables that had already been inside the room were placed in a row along another wall. This would be the ‘bar’.

Otabek put on a slow song for Yūko and Takeshi before he accompanied Yuuri around the corner, where several of their colleagues and staff members of a catering company were currently unloading supplies from a grocery delivery truck and carrying them into the kitchen. Yuuri and Otabek took the several pallets of small juice and water cartons Yuuri had ordered and carried them back to their disco room.

Yūko and Takeshi jumped apart like guilty teenagers caught in the act of kissing when they came back in, and anyone else would probably have made a lewd comment about whether they didn’t have enough children already. But not Yuuri with his Japanese politeness, and certainly not Otabek who remained as unfazed about his surroundings as ever as he put down the pallets on the table and started to help Yuuri pull off the plastic wrapper and arrange the small cartons in neat rows.

Once they had set up a small table with a chair and a large parasol above as a shield from the sun right outside the door, they stood for a moment with their hands in their hips, scanning their work and deciding that it was perfect.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Yuuri arrived back just after lunchtime with Leo. He was dressed in navy blue cotton slacks and a matching blazer, a plain white V-neck T-shirt and white trainers. His hair was sleeked back, and he had foregone his glasses because he didn’t want to lose them. They found Phichit by the photo booth he had set up just by the entrance and were pulled in for some test shots, putting on some of the assorted hats and glasses and other accessories that were provided with it, quickly changing between each shot, laughing when they saw the printed outcome.

The currency to buy anything at the summer party were tickets in different colours according to what they were worth. Every employee had been given a set for free to spend at the various food and drink stalls, but in case one ran out there was a booth set up near the entrance where extra tickets could be bought. There was already a small queue forming there, and Yuuri and Leo decided to join in right away and get a whole lot of extra tickets so that they wouldn’t need to come back again and again during the afternoon.

It was a perfect summer day, and Yuuri marvelled at the different stalls that had been set up throughout the park. The scent of food lingered in the air, and his stomach rumbled. There had been no time for lunch, and just as he was discussing with Leo what they would eat first from the choice of pizza, sausages, curry, crepes, or plain fries, Victor arrived. Yuuri watched him greeting people, patting backs and shaking hands, bending down to talk to someone’s child, smiling one from one ear to the other. It was plain to see how happy he was just to see everyone he met. He was wearing a grey three-piece suit with a tie even in this summer heat and, much to Yuuri’s surprise, a gym bag slung over his shoulder.

They got their extra tickets, Victor charming his way to the front of the queue at the insistence of Yuuri and Leo _and_ the ladies selling the tickets, even though he blushed a little and it was obvious that he didn’t like the favourable treatment and cutting in line.

“Join us for lunch, Victor?” Leo asked. “We were just trying to decide what to eat.”

Victor exchanged a glance with Yuuri. Yuuri smiled.

“I’d love to,” Victor said.

The park was slowly beginning to fill up, and they made slow progress, stopping to greet people here and there or have a small chat. Finally they found seats at one of the picnic tables that was only half-occupied. They got food from three different stalls, sharing bites among each other to sample everything and decide what they would come back for later.

“We should go, Leo,” Victor remarked after a glance at his watch and rose from the bench. “We need to get changed.”

Leo nodded, and they all stood, carrying their used plates and cutlery to one of the collecting stations of used dishes. Another one of Chris’ more environmentally friendly ideas, even though it needed hiring a catering company who made sure the used plates were collected and cleaned and new ones always available.

Yuuri went with Leo and Victor towards the building, wanting to check one last time if the disco room was really perfect and talk to Otabek about whether they wanted to start or wait for more people to arrive.

“Why do you need to get changed?” Yuuri asked as they were walking over. “You look fine.”

Victor paused. Yuuri froze, realising what he had just said. He shouldn’t have had a beer with that sausage, he thought, especially not on such a hot day. His face was colouring crimson.

“Yuuuuri! Thank you!” Victor’s eyes were sparkling with mirth. “You look good, too!”

Leo laughed.

Yuuri groaned.

They resumed walking, and Victor explained, “There’s a charity football match. Staff members from here against those from other branches. Every goal scored means 1.000 Euro for a children’s hospital in the city.”

“You… play football?” Yuuri gaped, looking between Victor and Leo, like he was trying to imagine them in a full football kit and failed.

“Not American football,” Leo said. “Soccer.”

“Oh.” Yuuri exhaled, somewhat relieved. He eyed Victor. “Are you any good?”

“I’m shit.” Victor beamed. “But it’s good fun. And it’s for charity.”

They had reached the building and jumped when a door flew open in front of them and slammed hard into the wall, and out shot Seung-gil, his face a thunderstorm, muttering a stream of Korean expletives.

Surprised glances passed between them. “Um… Seung-gil?” Victor tried.

“We’re screwed, Victor!” Victor jerked back when Seung-gil pretty much jumped into his face. “There’s no point in even going into this football match!”

“What’s got your panties in a twist?” Leo frowned.

“Fucking Mickey Crispino went and got himself a Czech boyfriend, and you know what they say about the Czechs!”

“The… no?” Confused, Yuuri sought Victor’s gaze.

“The best cheap beer and world class football,” Victor explained.

“With an Italian and a Czech on their team we stand no chance.” Seung-gil was fuming.

“The Czechs haven’t been _that_ good at football since Pavel Nedved retired,” Victor said soothingly and placed one arm around Seung-gil’s shoulder for comfort as he led him inside towards the changing rooms. “Perhaps it won’t be so bad.”

“Mickey’s got a _boyfriend_???” Leo was still processing the first part of the message as he stumbled in after them.

Yuuri wished them good luck and walked further around the house towards the disco room.

“Hi Yuuri!”

Otabek’s sister was sitting proudly in her spot by the door under the parasol.

“Hi.” A wide smile spread across his face and he bared his wrist. “Can I get a stamp?”

“Of course. Which one would you like?”

Yuuri chose a stamp that showed all the animals huddled in a corner, the very definition of _Sumikko Gurashi_ , and spent a little while talking and explaining the name and how they were supposed to be shy animals living in the corner. Otabek’s sister was hanging onto his lips, the back story making her feel even prouder of being allowed to pass out the cute stamps than she had already been before.

Stepping into the darkened room out of the sunlight felt a little like stepping into another world. Yuuri closed the door halfway, which made the effect of the many fairy lights even stronger. Music was already playing, some popular chart hit. A few children were already there, sitting shyly on the benches or standing by the juice bar as if wondering whether they could have a drink or needed to ask anyone first. 

A ray of light suddenly burst across the floor as the door flew open and the triplets stormed in, Yūko following after them and closing the door again.

“I thought this was a disco!” the blue one exclaimed with her hands in her hips. “Why is nobody dancing?”

“Can you play the Macarena?” The purple one was addressing Otabek.

“Mama! You can leave now!” The pink one turned to Yūko. “We’ve got everything under control!”

“Yuuri! I thought you were going to dance with us!” The blue one was looking up at him now.

“Yes, Yuuri! Dance the Macarena with us!” The purple one came back over towards Yuuri.

The pink one was rounding up the other kids and brought them over to the middle of the room.

Yuuri looked at Otabek, who gave him a thumbs up and started the song, the well-known beat starting to pound through the speakers. Yuuri looked at Yūko next, who gave him a shrug and a smug look that said very clearly ‘Don’t look at _me_ , you’ve brought this upon yourself!’ She waved a cheerful goodbye and left.

She was right, Yuuri thought. He _had_ brought this upon himself.

“Yuuuuuuuri!” Several small voices were urging him on to join them dancing.

And Yuuri, albeit laughing and blushing a little, accepted his self-inflicted fate and danced the Macarena.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Victor really _was_ useless at soccer.

Yuuri had left Takeshi in charge of the disco and headed out on an ice-cream run for the kids, but he stopped on the sidelines to watch the football match for a while. Lots of people were doing the same, cheering or booing, yelling encouragement and abuse at the players like at any football match.

Yuuri cringed every time Victor accidentally passed the ball to their opponents, or messed up a pass, laughing off the death glares Seung-gil pierced him with. The one time it actually looked like he might score a goal it was, of course, offside. Another chance arose for the opponents a short time later, when Leo mixed up his kinds of football and tackled Michele Crispino to the ground in the 18-yard box. It resulted in a red card for Leo, a yellow card for Michele who refused to cease the complaining and very dramatic Italian hand gestures despite the referee telling him to, and a penalty that Michele’s Czech boyfriend sunk cold-bloodedly in the top right corner of the net. And in the midst of all that mayhem was Victor, sweaty fringe plastered to his face and trying more or less successfully to hide a chuckle behind the hand clasped in front of his mouth. Yuuri felt warmth blossom in his chest, watching this man and realising that to Victor, it didn’t matter which side scored a goal as long as they had fun and raised money for sick children.

Yuuri was almost glad his phone buzzed in his pocket at this moment, a message from Takeshi letting him know that the kids were getting impatient for that ice-cream. He hurried back with a whole carton of assorted Cornetto a short time later, deliberately ignoring the football pitch because he didn’t trust himself, and even more, he didn’t trust Victor, who was fully capable of calling out and waving to him in the middle of a football match and ending up with a football in his face.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Yuuri was watching over his little charges with a happy smile on his face. The room had filled up now, and he actually had a proper little disco going on. If he didn’t have to break up a fight over who got to dance with the prettiest girl or the last pack of orange juice before he could get more from the kitchen, things were going smoothly. Time and again he would let them pull him onto the dance floor. He loved being in their middle and leading them into the moves. It made him happy how they followed him along, so eager and cute. Whenever he spotted someone on the sidelines or a newcomer who was shy at first he would approach them and gently lead them into a dance until they lost their inhibitions and a smile appeared on their face. They _adored_ him, and the feeling was very mutual.

Otabek was playing a good mix of children’s songs, local pop, chart hits, and just plain disco. The children had clear favourites and were not afraid of asking Otabek for them again and again. Yuuri knew that much after three ‘Dschinghis Khan’, five ‘Gangnam Style’, and more ‘Dragostea Din Tei’ than he’d ever wanted to hear in his lifetime. He had also learned that he hated ‘Baby Shark’. With a passion. The children in their enthusiasm reminded him of how much fun it was when you didn’t understand a language and still sang along, making up words you thought you heard. They were all fluent in fantasy Romanian and fantasy Korean now, although one little boy whose dad worked in the finance department with Otabek and Seung-gil asked if they couldn’t get Seung-gil for the next round of ‘Gangnam Style’ so he could translate the words for them. Yuuri and Otabek laughed a good ten minutes imagining how that particular plan would go down with Seung-gil. It was most probably the first time Yuuri had seen Otabek laughing.

Leaning against one wall with his back, Yuuri let his gaze scan over the kids to make sure nobody was annoying other kids or fighting. He’d had to call some little rowdies to order already, making them sit out a dance or two on the benches until they behaved. The kids were currently dancing mostly in pairs to a popular German song, and he knew they probably shouldn’t be singing along to lyrics describing how a woman had been screwed over a thousand times by her useless boyfriend yet would readily take him back, but they were having _so_ much fun. And the playlist had been chosen by Otabek’s sister and the triplets under adult supervision. Yuuri trusted Otabek and the Nishigoris.

One of the Nishigori triplets was sulking on the bench feeling left out because her sisters were dancing together, and Yuuri was just about to go over and relieve her from her misery when Victor came in and made a beeline for the little girl he must have spotted from the door. Victor had changed back into the grey suit now but foregone the waistcoat and tie, and something constricted deep inside Yuuri’s chest as he watched him sink down on one knee in front of the neglected triplet and asked her to dance with a perfect gentlemanly bow. She wiped the tears off her face and slid off the bench, taking Victor’s hand as he led her on the dance floor. Within half a minute he had her dancing the basic step of disco fox, and she stuck her tongue out at her sisters triumphantly when Victor twirled her past them under his arm.

And damn him if he wasn’t outdoing even Yuuri in the children’s favour, dancing with almost everyone for the next couple of songs. Another song ended, and several kids flocked over to Yuuri.

“Yuuri, can we do the airplane song again?”

“ _Again???”_ he asked, one hand on his heart in mock suffering. They’d only had that one thirty times yet.

“You have to ask Otabek if he can find it,” he fended off the eager pack of boys and girls and they stormed over to the DJ console yelling “Bekaaaaaa! Can you play the airplane song again?”

Yuuri laughed, while he tried very hard not to look at Victor, who was wiping his sweaty brow, looking unkempt and still graceful as he took off his suit jacket and placed it over a free corner of the table before he accepted a pack of apple juice from one of his small admirers.

With stoic patience Otabek just nodded and the next thing Yuuri knew he was being pulled into the middle of the dance floor by small hands tugging on him. He dared Victor to join in with a tilt of his chin. He had lost count of how many times he had heard this very song throughout the afternoon and was probably able to recite the words in his sleep by now as well as make the motions accordingly - flying with spread arms like an airplane, arms flexed strong as a tiger and stretched upwards tall as a giraffe, jumping and swimming and being led in a circle by his hands, and then starting again from the top but a little faster with each verse. From the corner of his eyes he saw Victor pick up on the moves quite quickly, throwing his head back and laughing and clapping with the overexcited kids when the song came to an end.

“Yuuri! Come dance with me!” Victor called breathlessly across the dance floor and over the small heads surrounding him.

Yuuri crossed his arms in front of his chest, feigning scepticism. “I don’t know… are you better at dancing than you’re at playing football?”

“Oh _please.”_ Victor huffed and shook his bangs out of his face for dramatic effect. “You want to take on five time kiddie disco champion Victor Nikiforov?” His eyes sparkled with the challenge.

Meanwhile the children had caught on and were crowding around Yuuri and Victor respectively, jumping up and down with excitement. They demanded them to dance together and a small group of them was whispering with their heads stuck together and then announced they would pick the song for them. They ran over to Otabek and he leaned down, joining the conspiracy. Yuuri wished he could hear something, but the little fiends were really quiet, and he merely saw Otabek nodding and sitting back up to find the song. A moment later he gave Yuuri a thumbs up and a nod, probably to say that he was ready whenever they were.

Yuuri looked back at Victor. Victor met his gaze dead on, fighting hard to remain serious as he gave the kids a show. He unbuttoned the top three buttons of his dress shirt and rolled up the sleeves to his elbows, then placed his hands on his hips, head cocked in expectancy.

Very slowly, Yuuri slid his blazer down his shoulders, threw it on the bench, and ran one hand through his hair, holding Victor’s gaze all the time. It could have been sexy, if it hadn’t been for the twenty odd children cheering as he took a first determined step towards Victor.

Victor’s right hand came out, palm facing up, asking to draw Yuuri into this dance. Otabek must have taken that as a cue, for what sounded like a brief orchestral intro flowed through the speakers, only to be replaced by a keyboard melody that had the children around them hopping around with recognition. Yuuri winced. It was one of the most embarrassing songs they could have chosen, one of those popular hit songs that most people claimed they wouldn’t be seen dead listening to because it was embarrassing and kitschy. Phichit, who got a kick out of digging up details like this, had once told Yuuri that, incredulously, this song was no. 1 of the charts of the _decade_.

Yuuri placed his left hand in Victor’s right and found himself pulled in close instantly. He broke into a wide smile that matched Victor’s, as Victor moved his left arm instinctively under Yuuri’s right arm and placed his hand on Yuuri’s shoulder blade. Yuuri put his right hand on Victor’s upper arm, their joined hands poised above shoulder height as he let Victor lead him easily into the familiar steps.

It was the most fun Yuuri had had all day. He had heard this particular song more than could be healthy in one day, too, and his basic knowledge of the language didn’t let him make out much more of the lyrics than that someone was giving their lover a star in their name as a symbol of their love. But it was the perfect song for disco fox, and Victor hadn’t lied about his skills. He led Yuuri so naturally that it surprised Yuuri how easily he let him do so. They whirled around the dance floor, faster than would have been possible with the kids. Yuuri found himself turned into spins and double spins and shoulder spins, and pulled back in to Victor’s waist by a firm grip of Victor’s hand. He was out of breath from moving so fast and laughing so hard, and from being insanely happy.

He barely noticed the children clearing the floor for them, standing on the sides and clapping as they sang and moved along to the music on the sidelines. He didn’t notice the phones in the hands of the Nishigori triplets, filming and snapping pictures with a passion that would have done Phichit proud.

When the song ended on a computerised drum-effect, Victor turned Yuuri into a final spin and let go of his shoulder blade so that they ended in an improvised finishing pose, arms outstretched and legs poised, hands still joined between them. They looked at each other, finding the same breathless rise and fall of their chests in the other, the same mess of perspiring hair sticking to temples and forehead, the same giddy smile spread all over their faces. For a moment they just stood, then the unpracticed pose crumbled and they collapsed into a spontaneous hug, laughing breathlessly as their arms came around each other and their faces ended up almost touching, stopping with mere centimetres between them.

They looked into each other’s eyes, and Yuuri wanted to stay like this forever, drown in the blue sea that was Victor’s eyes, make everything and everyone around them disappear and just be here with Victor, laughing, breathless, feeling the warmth of his body seep into him through his clothes. Yuuri’s eyes widened slightly with realisation. Like a mirror, he saw the very same in Victor’s eyes, and he was glad they were holding on to each other because his legs felt exceedingly rubber-y all of a sudden.

“Victor!”

They pulled apart, Yuuri trying not to stagger, and looked down to find the triplet in pink tugging on Victor’s sleeve.

“You promised to take me to the sweets shop!” She looked up at him determinedly.

“So I did.” Victor smiled at her, pushing his bangs from his face.

“Me too!” The purple one added.

“Me too!” The blue one chimed in.

“Yuuri…” Victor gave him an apologetic look, smiling with a slight tilt of his head as if he was asking for something. “I’m afraid I’ve got to go. I have a date.”

“Womaniser.” Yuuri smiled back at him.

He watched Victor walk out with the triplets, making a great show of showing his stamp so he would be let back in and thus honouring the importance of their mini bouncer.

Yuuri heaved a deep sigh. He felt like he was watching his heart walk out the door into the sunshine.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“Huh???!!!”

Yura stared in disbelief at the girl sitting behind the table under the parasol. She looked Asian, with almond-shaped dark brown eyes and long black hair that was braided into a thick plait that lay across her shoulder. She stared right back at him, unmoved. Yura had no patience for this. It was bad enough Phichit had sent him here to take pictures of Yuuri’s silly kiddie disco. Now he found he couldn’t even get past this small black-haired fiend who guarded the door like a Cerberus in a pink summer dress.

“You need a stamp, or you can’t come back in when you go out,” she repeated.

“Who says I want to come back in?” Yura scoffed.

She tilted her head. “It’s okay to say you can’t dance, you know. It’s still fun even when you can’t do it right.”

“Who says I can’t dance?” Yura snapped.

“Why do you care so much about who says what?” she asked back.

“Gulzhan. Is there a problem?” A sudden deep voice came from the door where a man with an undercut and a similarly stoic expression as the girl’s had appeared, arms crossed in front of his chest.

Oh great, Yura thought. They had a life-sized bouncer, too. He seemed somewhat familiar; Yura was sure he’d seen him that half day Yakov had had him training in accounting until he decided it was not for him. Altin something or other.

“He cannot come in without a stamp, Beka.” The girl glanced up at the guy. She looked uncannily like him. Same hair colour, same eyes, same face.

Right. His name was Otabek, Yura remembered. And Otabek was looking at Yura right now.

“You cannot come in without a stamp,” he told him.

“Are you kidding me?” Yura looked angrily back and forth between the two of them.

“I don’t appreciate this kind of pun.” The girl raised one perfectly curved eyebrow.

“HUH??!!” Yura wasn’t good at guessing how old children were, but he was pretty sure that at her age he hadn’t been using words like ‘appreciate’ even in his native Russian tongue, leave alone English.

“I’m supposed to take pictures in there,” he said impatiently, sensing this was an argument he couldn’t win.

“Where’s your press badge then?“ The girl asked. „If you show me your badge perhaps Yuuri lets me make an exception.”

Yura glared at Otabek. “Are you serious?”

Otabek shrugged. “I didn’t make the rules. Complain to Yuuri. But for that, too, you’ll need a stamp.”

He disappeared inside again. Yura let out a resigned growl and held out his wrist.

“Now which one do you want?“ The girl started pouring over the stamps in the small plastic box in front of her. “There’s penguin, polar bear, cat, or Schnitzel, or there’s group pictures, and here’s one that says _Happy_.”

She looked up at Yura with one eyebrow raised. “Mhm, I don’t think it fits you. How about just _OK_?”

“A cat. Just give me a cat stamp! And no girly colours!”

“We only have red and pink.”

“Red then!”

She dipped a tiny square stamp into a stamp pad and placed it on Yura’s wrist. Yura looked down at it.

It was pink.

“Oops.” Gulzhan looked at him with that same stoic expression her brother bore.

Finally through the door, Yura headed straight towards Yuuri.

“Katsudon, what the fuck?!”

Yuuri turned around to him with his eyebrows raised but before he got to speak at least five little heads swung around towards Yura.

“We don’t say the f-word!” - “He said the f-word!” - “Don’t swear!” - “That was rude!” - “Yuuri, he said a bad word!” They all talked over each other.

Yuuri shook his head. “Swearing in here is punishable by one ‘Gangnam Style’ and up to three rounds of ‘Baby Shark‘. So choose your words wisely, Yura. Since you’re a first time offender, I’ll let you off this time.”

Yura gaped at him for a moment. There were at least five different things he wanted to reply to this, but he despised ‘Gangnam Style’ and he didn’t even want to know what ‘Baby Shark’ was, so he decided to keep his mouth shut and went about taking pictures instead like he had come to do.

He couldn’t for the life of him figure out why Yuuri was enjoying making a fool of himself like this, flailing around with his arms outstretched like an airplane as he led the midgets around the dance floor, but Yura guessed it was cute enough, and the pictures looked great. He finished with some shots of Otabek behind his DJ equipment, and he could have sworn that out of at least thirty shots of Otabek doing different DJ things, his facial expression was the same in every single one.

“Can I see those?”

Yura looked to where the voice had come from. Oh. It was Cerberus.

“Why?” he asked and lowered his camera where he had just gone through the pictures of Otabek.

“Because I have to approve of every picture of my brother that gets posted online.”

“What are you, his agent or something?” Yura rolled his eyes.

Gulzhan cocked one eyebrow, waiting.

Yura’s head shot round to Otabek, his whole expression a question mark.

“Do you have younger siblings?” Otabek asked.

Yura shook his head.

“If you did, you would understand.”

Yura huffed and bent down a little to show Gulzhan the pictures of Otabek. She approved of some, dismissed others.

“How do you make a decision! They all look the same!” Yura exclaimed.

Someone was tugging on Yura’s shirt and he looked down with a frown. A little boy was looking up at him.

“Do you dance?” he asked.

“No,” Yura scoffed.

“Do you like apple juice then?” The boy was holding out a small square pack to him.

To his own surprise more than anyone else’s Yura felt his snarl unfurl into something resembling a smile. Theopen trust this little boy looked up at him with reminded him too much of one of the rare existing photographs of himself as a small child, looking up at his grandfather.

“Yeah,” he said and took the juice carton. “Thank you.”

“He can’t dance,” Gulzhan told the little boy.

“I never said I _cannot_ dance!” Yura turned on her again. God, she was exasperating.

“I don’t believe you,” the little boy told Gulzhan. “I think he can.”

And Yura felt his throat positively closing up, from all the curses he swallowed down of course, not from the complete and utter trust this unknown little boy seemed to have in him.

“How about it, Yura?” He hadn’t noticed Yuuri joining them. Yuuri was smiling at him now, all sparkly eyes. “Dance battle?”

Yura handed Otabek his camera and the carton of apple juice.

“You take good care of this!” he told him and followed Yuuri and his midgets onto the dance floor.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Victor waved goodbye to the triplets. He had taken them to the sweets shop, a small pop up stall looking like an old-fashioned fairground sales booth, and the four of them had sampled their way through every single kind of candy, chocolate and popcorn there was. When they ran out of tickets, Victor had reached into the inner pocket of his suit jacket and taken out a whole wad of more tickets which he had given to them to spend.

Then they had gone to the face-painting booth, and now each of them had a different animal painted on her face and a giant pastel-coloured lollipop in her hand as they were hanging on to Takeshi’s broad back and arms and waving to Victor while being carried off towards the bouncy castle.

“Victor.”

He swung round at the sound of the well-known voice. His smile widened.

“Mickey!” He stepped into his friend’s embrace.

“I’d like you to meet someone.” From one moment to the next Michele seemed shy.

Victor tried not to laugh. He knew this was new to Michele, who had had girlfriends in the past the look of whom alone made them out to be nothing but pretty jewels adorning his arm for decoration at an official function. Their names were meaningless, and Victor knew he probably remembered more of them by name than Michele did himself.

This was new. This was someone who had been introduced to his family. Someone he was now introducing to his oldest friend.

“Victor, this is Emil. My…” The small pause tugged on Victor’s heart. But he knew that the admission of ‚ _my_ something’ was already a big step for Michele, and his heart went out to his friend.

“Hi!” Victor breached the moment by approaching Emil with his hand outstretched. “We briefly met on the football pitch. You trashed us. Congratulations!”

“The pleasure’s all mine.” Big blue eyes danced with mirth.

Emil shook Victor’s hand with a firm grip, which Victor approved of. Victor’s other hand came up to pat Emil’s upper arm affectionally. He didn’t know how else he could possibly express how glad and grateful he was to this young man for not even showing the slightest reaction to the faltering in Michele’s voice. The stumbling over the word ‘boyfriend’. He gave off the impression of someone who had all the time in the world and was willing to give that to Michele.

“How about we get a drink?” Victor asked. “I want to know all about that day Mickey got mugged and met _you_.”

“I’d love a drink,” Emil grinned.

Michele looked on in astonishment when Victor placed an arm around Emil’s shoulder like he had known him all his life and assumed correctly that beer was his favourite drink.

“I’ve been dying to meet you,” Emil was just saying. “Sara’s hinted at some interesting stories from your childhood that Mickey’s reluctant to share, so I’m counting on you. Also, that 18th birthday trip that Sara doesn’t know about. What was that all about?”

Victor smiled at Michele’s frown and led Emil to the nearest beer stall, motioning for his friend to come along.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Yuuri was strolling through the park, stopping here and there to chat. Yūko had taken over the disco as it winded down so that he wouldn’t miss out on the party completely. He had eaten his way through several food stalls and was holding a cup of water in his hand as he followed the music around some high hedges.

He knew there was a big dance floor inside the building on the first floor, with a live band and proper speakers, but here outside there was another one, smaller, more rustic. There was no DJ, just a laptop connected to the speakers and a playlist that had been open on the internal server over the past week so that every employee had been able to add songs to it. Anyone could come and select songs for the small dance floor and it was popular especially with the younger employees. The dance floor was almost hidden in a nook of the park, surrounded on three walls by hedges. The ground had been laid out with wood, and strings of fairy lights were seen hanging in the hedges though they didn’t make much sense yet in the bright sunlight of the late afternoon. There was nothing to sit on, and the nearest drinks stall was a little walk away. This was purely for dancing.

Yuuri arrived in time to see some younger colleagues dancing to ‘Teenage Dirtbag’, among them Mila and a young blond, beardy guy in knee-length cargo pants and a light blue shirt whom he seemed to remember from the football match, engaging in hip hop moves that Yuuri hadn’t been expecting of Mila.

“Yuuri!!!” Mila and several others called out when they spotted him like they were hailing a pop star, gesturing for him to come join them on the dance floor.

Laughing, Yuuri walked up onto the wooden floor. The song ended and a new one started, Kings of Leon’s ‘Sex on Fire’. Yuuri only noticed Victor when he turned around. One of the hedges jutted a little corner right at the entrance of the nook. It was in that very corner Victor was standing with Michele and Sara, so Yuuri hadn’t seen him as he came in. It would have been idiotic to hide now, especially since Sara was waving and Michele was nodding to him in greeting, which he acknowledged with a weak smile.

Victor was smiling, too. Yuuri was trying so hard not to pay attention to Victor that he felt every single one of Victor’s stolen glances. The song and its lyrics did nothing to help. Luckily Leo and Guang Hong arrived at this moment from a drinks run to more loud cheering from everyone, both of them with four bottles of beer in each hand. Yuuri gladly accepted a bottle of ice cold beer, shut his mind to Victor, and just danced. Like he had danced to this song at every college party he had let himself be dragged along to in the US, singing and jumping with the people around him, tilting his head back to guzzle down half a bottle of beer before he kept on dancing.

The next time he looked in Victor’s direction, Michele was standing in the corner alone. Sara had joined the group on the dance floor, and Victor was gone.

Phichit showed up and took a ton of photos before he placed his camera very carefully in one corner of the grass, secure in a little nest he made of Yuuri’s blazer which Yuuri just so happened to take off when Phichit arrived. Phichit looked up something on the playlist and came onto the dance floor just as ‘Baby One More Time’ started. They laughed at his choice and his stern face at their laughing, but they all indulged him and sang along at the top of their lungs as they danced to that and two more Britney songs Phichit had put on the playlist.

Yuuri enjoyed being on a dance floor with his friends again. They hadn’t gone out for the longest time. He wasn’t exactly someone who liked to go clubbing, but it was something he enjoyed with Phichit and the others. It was different with them. They didn’t go out to hook up like so many people he had encountered in college or even after, but just to have fun, dance, have a drink or two, and come home. He felt safe and relaxed in their group. College years spent in the US came through for him, Leo and Phichit and some of their other younger colleagues as they danced and jumped around to favourites of those days.

Leo and Emil, the beardy guy in the cargo pants and apparently Michele’s boyfriend, were fiddling with the playlist and Yuuri expected more Green Day or Linkin Park as he was standing on the side to catch his breath. He walked over to stand beside Michele, feeling it would be ridiculous if the both of them were not dancing but standing miles apart as they were looking on. Yuuri had a fresh cup of water in his hand that he had gotten from the nearest drinks stall, and he clanked it against Michele’s glass of champagne that Michele raised to him in a silent toast. A smile passed between them.

Leo looked up as he came round the table that held the laptop. His gaze found Guang Hong’s.

“This one’s for you, babe,” Leo said and stepped onto the dance floor.

Sara and Mila and, Yuuri was sure, Phichit too gushed very audibly when the first chords strung from the speakers. Guang Hong looked teary-eyed over his smile and his blush. His eyes were on Leo as if everyone else around them didn’t exist.

‘Chasing Cars’ was their song, Yuuri knew, and the smile threatened to burst his face as he watched them dancing like they were all alone in the world. He ignored the little sting in his heart that made him wish for what they had because he couldn’t possibly feel jealous of his closest friends and their relationship.

Leo and Guang Hong stopped moving to the music at some point and stood with their foreheads touching, Guang Hong singing along the words that, as he had once confessed to Yuuri one night after too many beers, summed up all that he felt for Leo.

_All that I am, all that I ever was is here in your perfect eyes, they’re all I can see._

Yuuri ignored the sudden burn of emotional tears in his own eyes.

“Dance with me.”

Yuuri looked up when he heard Emil’s voice beside him, addressing Michele.

“Here??” Michele’s eyes widened. He looked at the people on the dance floor like a panicked rabbit.

“We can go inside to the big dance floor where _all_ the people are if you prefer.” An amused smiled played around Emil’s lips.

Michele huffed, but there was actually a very faint blush creeping up his tanned face.

Yuuri winked at Emil and took the glass out of Michele’s hand to help things along.

Yuuri couldn’t help but notice how all of Michele’s harsh businessman authority seemed to crumble under his own wish to have this, have a dance with a man he barely dared to call his boyfriend in public because he was still overwhelmed by it all. Emil was younger than Michele, the complete opposite of the world Michele had grown up in and represented, and yet there was a patience to the very obvious way he was attracted to and cared for Michele that Yuuri found beautiful and almost too intimate to watch.

It was a beautiful slow song, perhaps an Italian singer, Yuuri guessed, even though the words were in English. It was actually about a girl, but Yuuri caught Emil mouthing the words at Michele at some point and turning the ‘girl’ into ‘boy’. It made Yuuri smile. There were too many beautiful songs in the world that called for this small alteration.

_For all the love before us, for us, for all the pain so sweet… say you won’t, say you won’t leave…_

Yuuri watched Sara nudging Mila, both their faces crunched in that ‘Oh my GOD! _Look_ at them!’ way that made one twist one’s face with the effort of holding in a squeal.

Finding his water cup empty, Yuuri decided to get some more and called out goodbye to everyone still dancing before he stepped out through the opening in the hedges and made his way back towards the more crowded part of the park again.

“Yuuri!”

Chris was calling out to him from the one stall that served champagne. Trust him not to show up until the early evening, Yuuri thought.

Yuuri’s work smile was firmly in place; he knew it was not done to _not_ talk to his boss at an event like this. He felt the by now familiar tug on his heartstrings as he saw who else was with Chris, but he washed the emotion in his throat down with the rest of his water and discarded the empty cup in a bin he passed on the way over.

And as he stepped closer and saw the weird gleam in Chris’ eyes, Yuuri suddenly found himself wishing he was in any position to warn Victor of his friends because there was something about the sly expression on Chris’ face that made Yuuri doubt Chris really had Victor’s best interests at heart.

Victor looked absolutely frozen. And upset.

And Yuuri knew. From the hand that lay around the woman’s waist. From the way she stood, with her body turned and her head slightly tilted towards Victor. Yuuri _knew_.

Michele’s empty champagne glass suddenly weighed a ton in Yuuri’s hand. Chris’ voice came from a great distance over the pounding of the blood in his ears.

“Yuuri, have you met Isabella Yang? Victor’s fiancée.”

Yuuri remained very still while he smiled brightly and something inside him crumpled and perished.

Had he met Isabella Yang alright! Isabella from business development, who had been his mentor during his training days. Isabella, who had been so positive and encouraging, who had sat with him during one of his worst bouts of anxiety since he’d graduated college and breathed with him until he felt better. Isabella Yang, who just happened to be the nicest, kindest and most beautiful person Yuuri had probably met since he’d started working for this company. Of course she would be Victor’s fiancée. She was perfect, in every way his equal.

“Yuuri!” She was genuinely happy to see him again. “Didn’t I always tell you how much potential you have?”

It was probably the casualness of the day, everyone feeling so much less restricted out of their usual work environment, that found him engulfed in a hug the next moment. He reacted automatically. His hands came around Isabella’s back and he leaned in, feeling slain by the fact that suddenly the scent of her perfume should be so prominent again on his mind. It was a warm, comforting scent, something that had anchored him during his first working days when he was still so overwhelmed by everything that realising a big dream brings with it.

“Hi Isabella.” Yuuri smiled, even though it stretched the corners of his mouth painfully. “How are you?”

“Fine.” Her smile was still dazzling, her blue eyes still so warm. “Will you join us for a drink, Yuuri? We haven’t talked for so long.”

Yuuri’s stomach turned over as she turned towards Victor.

Victor looked like he desperately wanted to talk to Yuuri.

Yuuri felt like _he_ desperately wanted to run.

Victor smiled now, and it made Yuuri’s heart ache because it was one of those smiles that didn’t reach his eyes. It barely made it past the corners of his mouth. Nothing about this smile was heart-shaped, everything about it was strained. Victor’s gaze, as it met Yuuri’s, was inconsolable.

Yuuri’s chest felt tight with the exhaustion of keeping it together. He had felt regret for quite a while that he hadn’t managed to stay in touch with Isabella more once his initial training period was finished. But she really worked very hard, worked crazy hours, travelled a lot because business development meant flying out there and meeting partners, securing deals and checking that things went smoothly. And Yuuri had met Phichit soon after and had been swept away by the sheer force of nature that being friends with Phichit Chulanont implied.

Of course, it all made perfect sense now. Victor was just as dedicated to his work.

“I would love to, but I promised Yūko and Otabek I wouldn’t leave them alone with the locking up of the disco room.” Yuuri took the smallest hint of a bow as he excused himself. “Perhaps we can catch up later?”

“That would be lovely.” Isabella smiled her brilliant smile, and Yuuri remembered to return Michele’s empty glass to the champagne stall before he turned to go. He felt Victor’s eyes on him with every step he walked away.

Something odd struck him about this whole scene, something he couldn’t put his finger on.

It wasn’t until he had reached the building and rounded the corner that he allowed himself to breathe again. He leaned back against the wall for a couple of minutes, the back of his head moving over the scratchy concrete as he tried to reign in his breathing that suddenly spiralled out of control. Voices were nearing from around another corner and he fumbled for the key in his pocket and made his way to the disco room.

It wasn’t true that he needed to help Yūko and Otabek. They had closed off the room as the afternoon turned into evening and more and more people took their children home. Yūko had dropped the key off with Yuuri, meeting him at a drinks booth before she helped Takeshi get their three tired and overexcited triplets to the car.

Yuuri let himself into the room and closed the door behind him, leaning with his back against the door from the inside for a moment. His mind was reeling, and he took deep, ragged breaths, trying to make sense.

A picture of all the facts he could find somewhere inside his mind and memory came together.

So many things added up now.

_Pick I. up from the airport._

‘Bella’ was Isabella.

Victor’s inside knowledge of Dubai.

Yuuri knew Isabella’s father was some kind of Chinese business tycoon who had lived in Dubai for the longest time. Isabella’s parents still lived in Dubai. Her father moved in the same circles as Yakov. He was on the supervisory board of Crispino & Giacometti. Her mother was Irish, Isabella got her porcelain complexion and her blue eyes from her. She had been born in Beijing and grown up in Dubai, sent to boarding school in England and spent her holidays with her mother’s large family on the Irish coast. Yuuri remembered stories about the dogs she roamed around the Irish countryside with. Stories she had told him to distract him and cheer him up when he thought he was crumbling under the sheer overwhelming workload of the first days at Crispino & Giacometti. They had shared stories and pictures of dogs, though scanning his memory quickly he didn’t remember Makkachin being in her pictures.

He remembered something else. One morning while he was in training. The sheer happiness on Isabella’s face. He had teased her about the date she’d been on the night before. It wasn’t like Yuuri to ask about these kind of things. Wasn’t like Isabella to talk about them either. She was very private about them. A kindred soul, Yuuri had always found. Perhaps that was why he had liked her so much from the first day.

But she had been so giddy about that date. She was in love. She had been nervous about it the day before too, the only time work hadn’t been going smoothly because her mind had been elsewhere. So Yuuri had asked, the only time he has asked something private. And she had told him, about the perfect date she had been taken on. A scene from her favourite movie had been recreated. A true dream date. Yuuri had been smitten by the things she told him, had been a little envious even there were people who would go to such lengths for a date. 

“If I ever end up dating someone who makes me smile half as much as you are smiling after this date, I’ll consider myself lucky,” he had told her.

“I wish for you to find someone like that, Yuuri,” Isabella had replied, all sincere and warm-hearted because she just was that kind. “You deserve to be made this happy, Yuuri. Your person is out there for you. Don’t settle for less.”

Oh god, Yuuri thought now. Oh! God! It had been Victor. Isabella’s perfect date back then had been Victor.

What irony. What ridiculous, stupid, fucking irony.

He switched on the light in the room, unable to be alone with his thoughts and feelings in the dark any longer. His perfect little kiddie disco looked weird and sterile in the naked neon light. All the magic was gone. It was a deep fall from such great height.

Yuuri locked the door from the inside and began to take down the fairy lights. He took off all the balloons and assembled them on the floor in front of one the benches. He worked his way through every step meticulously. Concentrating on a task helped his mind calm down and kept the anxious knot inside him unravelled. He even picked off the glow-in-the-dark stars from the black cloth one by one, placing them neatly in the box they had come in. He took off the black cloth, and orange evening light began to tiptoe into the room bit by bit through the windows that were uncovered. Yuuri switched off the light and sat down on the bench, picking up every single balloon from the floor and fiddling so long with the knot that tied them until he had untied them and the air escaped with a faint _whoosh_.

When he had collected all the multi-coloured limp rubber bits from the floor and dumped them into the waste bin, it struck him what had been odd about the meeting earlier.

Isabella’s smile hadn’t reached her eyes either.

Yuuri carefully placed the box holding the glow-in-the-dark stars on top of the folded black cloths.

Whatever was going on there, he didn’t want to know.

As the shadows grew longer and he saw he had several missed calls from Phichit, he wrote a quick text that he was just finishing up and would meet him and the guys inside by the bar shortly. The moment he sent it he knew though that he couldn’t possibly face people now. Phichit would take one look at him and demand to know what the hell had happened.

Yuuri heaved a sigh. He had single-handedly turned the room back into what it had been, but the memories wouldn’t be folded up with the cloth or escape into nothing with the air from the deflated balloons.

There were a lot of juice and water cartons left which he would be able to give back to the catering suppliers so they wouldn’t need to be paid for. Thinking about how he could possibly get them all to the kitchen, his eye fell in the carton he had carried the ice-cream in. After watching the football match. Before dancing with Victor. It seemed a whole unreal eternity ago.

He packed all the unopened drinks into the carton and put his blazer back on. Balancing the carton on his hip, he left the room and locked the door.

The kitchen was deserted apart from two women sporting the mint green uniform of the catering company who were meticulously stashing plates and cutlery and putting them in large boxes they had brought. Yuuri asked where he could leave the drinks that were going back and they pointed out a corner where several crates of juice and mineral water were already stacked. He added his carton on top of it and was just about to leave the kitchen, not after thanking them profusely for their work, when he came past a fridge in which he knew the chilled champagne bottles were kept. He opened the door on a whim and found several bottles still in there. Without thinking Yuuri grabbed one of them and closed the fridge, placing one finger over his lips with a conspiratorial smile at the catering ladies as he quietly left the kitchen again.

He sent another text to Phichit saying that he was tired and heading home.

Inside, the corridors of the ground floor were a sterile labyrinth of white walls and light grey doors opening out here and there, the bright artificial lights reminding Yuuri of hospitals he’d seen on TV or in the movies. His footsteps made faint squeaking sounds on the linoleum floor as he slowly made his way along the corridor in search of some place where he could just be alone and drown the day’s emotional rollercoaster in champagne.

One of the doors stood ajar and he moved closer towards the strip of light, hoping it was unoccupied and he wouldn’t have to lug around this cold bottle any further, though he froze in place when he heard a voice inside. He knew that voice, though he had never heard it laced with so much sadness.

Heart in his chest, Yuuri moved just the smallest bit closer and tried to peek into the room without being noticed. A table came into view, a pair of legs dangling over the table top. The hem of a skirt stopping just above the knee. Pale, toned calves. Blue flats.

Yuuri inched closer. Recognised the shoulders, even though he could only see one and they were slumped. The back of half a head, black hair, beveled and exposing the slightest stretch of pale neck. The faint linger of perfume by the door clogged his mind with recognition.

“I know… I miss you too.”

Yuuri knew he shouldn’t be here. He shouldn’t hear this. And yet he felt he could not move.

“No, you will _not_ come here and talk to Victor! I have to tell him myself! … No, he doesn’t suspect anything.”

Yuuri’s breath caught in his throat. His stomach plummeted.

“I know… I know, what I promised you. … of course I do! You have no idea how much.”

The phone call was ended, and an arm came into view as it was lowered, a pale hand placing a golden-cased phone on the table. Yuuri watched from his hiding place, emotions raging havoc inside him, how that arm came around a waist, another hand came into view as she hugged herself, bent over further but couldn’t stop the trembling. The sound of her sobs cut through the quiet of the room, words barely able to make out.

“What am I going to _do_???”

Yuuri retreated as quietly as he could, shell-shocked.

Beautiful, kind, perfect Isabella was cheating on Victor.

And from what Yuuri gathered, she wasn’t even a sneaky evil bitch about it but it was really tearing her apart. Well, she would be, Yuuri huffed quietly to himself, because she was too damned nice to do even this any differently.

It was enough for one day, Yuuri decided. He’d had too much for one day, too much of everything.

He crept away until he found an unoccupied room. Closed the door behind him and popped the champagne cork. Then he switched off the light.

In the faint orange glow of a street light right outside the one window and the green illuminated emergency exit sign above the door, Yuuri grabbed one of the chairs, sat down astride it and drank champagne straight from the bottle.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The park was deserted by the time Yuuri stepped down the front stairs. Inside on the first floor the party was still going on, the band playing on for fifty odd people who didn’t seem to want to stop dancing. Yuuri could hear the music and laughter wafting through the door before it closed and dimmed the sounds. The summer night had pleasantly cooled down, and he made his way slowly through the empty park. All the stalls and booths outside had closed up, the rooms on the ground floor were locked to the outside, and all that was left was an open bar beside the dance floor inside where the people lingered.

Yuuri had run a lot of cold water over his face in the bathroom and bought two bottles of water from the bar with his last remaining tickets. He had managed to sober up a little, glad to find that none of this friends were among the remaining party people. He still didn’t feel in any shape to deal with people.

And he knew he should go home but something drew him towards the small dance floor between the hedges. The place was as deserted as the rest of the park, though the music was still playing on, something soft and mellow someone had left behind on the playlist. For a moment his breath caught in his throat at the sight before him. The many, many fairy lights worked all their magic now, lighting up the wooden dance floor and the surrounding hedges with their countless multicoloured lights coming together into a warm, almost mystical cloak of light. It was soothing, and wholesome, and for the first time in hours Yuuri felt like that tight icy fist closed around his heart might release its grip after all.

He saw the slightest movement from the corner of his eye and swung around.

“Yuuri.”

Victor stepped out of the shadows, shirt further unbuttoned, suit jacket on one finger over his shoulder.

“You’re still here?”

“Yeah, I was… checking whether I could still help with anything…” Yuuri said lamely. Like it mattered in any way.

They stood very still, looking at each other across the small distance.

“One last dance?” Victor asked, head tilted in the glow of the fairy lights.

Yuuri knew he shouldn’t. He knew he would feel guilty, quite possibly heartbroken, and Phichit would rip his head off if he ever told him, but he was a little drunk, and a lot compassionate, and he couldn’t stop the kaleidoscope of different Victors churning in his head that was everything he had suspected Victor to be and more. A sharp businessman and a hard worker and a dog lover. Someone who played charity football and danced and played with the children at work events. Someone silly with a great sense of humour. A good friend. And he was hot, so hot that he gave Yuuri sleepless nights and sore wrists. But more than all of that, Victor was just a really, really nice guy, well-liked by everyone, and engaged to an equally well-liked and really, really nice girl — as someone like him would be.

Except that she was cheating on him, and it made Yuuri feel helpless and protective at the same time.

He wondered whether Victor knew, the weight of the knowledge suddenly crushing, just as he knew that he was not the one entitled to tell him.

So Yuuri just held out his hand across the small dance floor.

Victor let his suit jacket drop into the grass right where he was and crossed the small distance between them. They moved in close as if to hug without hesitation, slow dancing like there was absolutely no question.

Victor smelt of alcohol, and cigarettes, and musky perfume, and clean sweat, and Yuuri breathed him in until he felt weak in the knees. Then he allowed his hands to hold on tighter to Victor for support. Their steps slowed down with the music, became too slow for the mid-tempo love song with a hint at rock. Victor’s knee slid just the tiniest bit between Yuuri’s as they moved to the music. The German lyrics weren’t too hard to understand, and Yuuri felt his breath stall in his chest knowing that Victor, too, understood the ‘ _what I want is you… without you I’m not going to sleep tonight… without you I’m not getting any rest tonight’_ very well, probably understood more of the lyrics than Yuuri did.

Victor’s hands moved slowly over Yuuri’s back, leaving comfortable heat wherever they went.

The music changed yet again to some keyboard-laden 80s ballad. The words made Yuuri want to cry.

_Who’s gonna tell you when it’s too late? Who’s gonna tell you things aren’t so great?_

Yuuri buried his face in the crook of Victor’s neck. Victor’s skin was warm and so, so soft that Yuuri wanted to kiss it, now, every day, always. He held him closer, fearing it could hurt, but Victor’s arms responded likewise, pulling Yuuri tighter against his body, breathing closer against Yuuri’s ear.

_Who’s gonna pick you up when you fall?… Who’s gonna come around when you break?_

Yuuri lifted his head automatically from Victor’s shoulder when they came to a standstill. He swallowed hard. Victor’s eyes looked dark in this light. Dark and full of all those things Yuuri had firmly believed he had hidden oh so well inside that nobody would ever notice. This was every moment they had spent like this before, standing so close that Yuuri could drown in Victor’s eyes, frozen in time with Victor looking at his mouth.

Except that this time Yuuri licked his lips.

Except that this time Victor brought his mouth closer, and closer.

Except that this time Yuuri moved in and met Victor halfway.

He did not taste like an ashtray.

_You can’t go on thinking nothing’s wrong… Who’s gonna drive you home tonight?_

Maybe it was the way he felt so at home in Victor’s arms. Maybe it was the soft glow of the fairy lights all around them. Or maybe it really was the perfect kiss. Yuuri sank into it, eyes falling shut, lips parting, inviting Victor in. They kissed lazily, sweetly, tongues searching and finding, chasing to taste the other and give of themselves. Yuuri felt the blood pounding in his ears, the heat of Victor’s skin through the cotton of his shirt where Yuuri let his hands roam slowly over Victor’s back, at the same time painfully aware of Victor’s hands holding on to his hips for dear life.

They came apart breathless, chests heaving as their foreheads leaned together, eyes searching for… something, anything, in this ridiculously romantic light. Yuuri thought his heart would leap out of his throat any moment. And shatter on the wooden floor beneath them.

“Yuuri…” Victor’s voice sounded low, and wondrous.

Yuuri brought up one hand and cupped Victor’s face. His breath hitched when he saw the hint of a dreamy smile purse Victor’s lips and Victor cradled his cheek in his hand like it belonged there. Yuuri took a deep breath but it stuttered so much in his chest that he was sure Victor was very aware.

“Goodnight, Victor,” Yuuri said softly but didn’t move.

Because I’m _stupid_ , Yuuri reminded himself a moment later when Victor’s hand came up over his wrist and twisted it slightly, at the same time moving his face so that he was able to breathe a kiss into the palm of Yuuri’s hand, and all this time the contact of their eyes never ever broke.

Yuuri pried his hand free from Victor’s touch as slowly and gently as he possibly could.

And turned to walk away.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Victor didn’t show up in the park the next morning. Just as well, Yuuri thought as he threw a stick for Vicchan for the millionth time and watched Vicchan fetch it with much less than his usual vigour. Sitting in the grass, Yuuri nursed his coffee for the longest time. The second cup turned cold beside him, muffins remained uneaten. Vicchan didn’t ask for his treat.

Despite five rounds of meticulous tooth-brushing since he had come home in the early hours of the morning, Yuuri felt he could still taste Victor in his mouth and it echoed deep down inside him, but in all the wrong places. To think that he had done that, kissed a man who was engaged to someone else, made him want to double over and wrap his arms around himself to reign in the anxiety. And he couldn’t blame it on the champagne. He had been as clear-minded as he’d ever been, and he _knew_ that Victor had been the same.

Vicchan lost interest in the stick and cheeky squirrels and came to curl up in Yuuri’s lap instead, like someone who had just realised that a much longed for friend was not going to show.

“I know,” Yuuri said quietly, scratching Vicchan’s favourite spot behind his ear. “I miss them too.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

At the other end of the city, Victor was sitting in a secluded corner of Celestino’s, his favourite Italian restaurant, wringing his hands around a starched cotton napkin as he tried to find the words to say. He had texted Isabella asking her to meet him as soon as the first strips of dawn lined the horizon, unable to wait any longer. Strangely enough, she had replied right away.

“Bella…” He looked across the table at his fiancée.

“I really don’t know how to say this without hurting you, but…”

Her blue eyes widened.

“Are you calling off the engagement?” she whispered, shocked.

Victor was a little surprised she would jump to this conclusion right away. He must have been a shitty fiancé for some time if this was the first thing that came to her mind. He reached across the table and took her hands in his, rubbing his thumbs across the backs of her hands in what he hoped was a soothing manner.

“You’re breaking up with me??” Her voice was barely audible.

Victor nodded slowly.

She drew her hands away from his, and he probably deserved it, he thought, as he watched, heart sinking further, how she buried her face in her hands. A moment later her whole body was shaking with sobs. Victor cursed under his breath, helpless whenever someone cried in front of him who was older than seven and whose troubles could not be solved with ice-cream. Looking around the restaurant he saw that they were secure from stares from other customers at least and that the waiters maintained a polite - or possibly embarrassed - distance.

He felt all the way like a miserable bastard when Isabella removed her hands from her face and looked at him, smeared mascara and burning cheeks streaked with tears.

„Bella, I am so, so sorry!“ He stood up from his seat and rounded the table to slide in beside her on the small leather bench she had chosen to sit on, one arm around her shoulder as he pulled her in for comfort.

“Victor, you…” Isabella gasped.

Here goes, he thought. “Just let it out,” he said lowly, forehead resting against her hair because he was just so, so tired and heavy of heart. “Call me all the nasty names under the sun, as long as it makes you hurt a little less.”

“No, Victor, you don’t understand.” She pulled away from him, wiping at her face which only made the dissolved make-up worse.

“I…” Another gulp for air. “I’m _relieved_.”

“I know, sweetheart, and I’m… _what_?” His eyes widened as her words sank in.

Fresh tears sprang to her eyes. “I’ve been wanting to break things off for so long and I never knew how!”

Victor gaped. He knew he was probably looking insanely stupid right at this moment but he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Not after the night he’d had, tossing and turning after too much summer party and too many cigarettes and too much Yuuri seeping into his every cell, no Makkachin to cuddle up to because he’d arranged to pick her up only some time during Sunday afternoon. He’d been tormenting himself about how to possibly break the news to Bella that he couldn’t be with her anymore. And even though he knew that he couldn’t hope to just be with Yuuri instead, especially if Yuuri ever found out about the bet, it didn’t feel right to hold up this engagement any more. Isabella at least deserved a shot at happiness.

“I’m the one who’s sorry, Victor!” Isabella sobbed more than she spoke. “I haven’t been feeling the same for some time and I was so scared to tell you because… everyone seems to expect so much of this marriage, my parents, Yakov... And you! You are the sweetest, nicest, most wonderful man anyone could ever wish for, and I was honestly in love with you for the longest time, I really was, and the thought of not having you around anymore was also painful, but… something changed and I tried so hard to get those feelings back but I couldn’t… and. I still love you, because how could anyone not? But I know I’m not... _in love_ with you any longer.... god, this is a terrible thing to say! I’m so sorry! I didn’t know how to tell you! I was so afraid, so scared of hurting you!”

She was crying harder again, and Victor pulled her close once more, arms wrapped around her as she caressed her back and felt the same turmoil that was upsetting her. Relief, and… mourning? For the good times they had once shared. As much as he felt equally relieved, there was sadness. As there should be when something dear ended.

“Was this why you replied right away to my message this morning?” Victor asked, resting his forehead against her hair. He felt her nodding against his touch.

“I couldn’t sleep either,” she admitted.

Eventually she calmed down, while Victor kept on drawing calming circles on her lower back with one hand.

“Darling girl, you’re so flustered, have you been cheating on me behind my back?” he murmured into her hair, trying to lighten the mood with a joke. The way she stilled in his embrace gave him an answer he had absolutely not been expecting.

“You _have_???” he asked incredulously, pulling back to stare at her in shock.

“No! God, no!” She seemed appalled, but he knew her too well to see that this was not the whole truth.

“There is someone… there might be… feelings, but I never acted on them! Please, Victor, I swear I didn’t cheat on you!” She was almost angry that he would even think that.

Victor sighed, trying not to think about kissing Yuuri the night before. He wasn’t really successful. “It’s probably just as well, huh? I won’t be holding you back any longer.”

Silence settled between them for a moment, and Victor went back into his seat now that she had calmed.

“So is it someone I know?” he asked, trying to bring this lunch date around to a somewhat decent ending. He didn’t want to run out and part ways like this, didn’t want things to end on a bitter note. But oh, did he want to see Yuuri. “Someone from work, maybe?”

“Are you sure you really want to talk about this?“ she asked, wide-eyed.

Victor smiled, a sad smile. “We’ve been friends more than lovers for the past couple of months, Bella. Friends talk about these things, no?”

She looked at him for a long moment, eyes tearing over again. Then she took a deep breath. It sounded shaky. “God knows I’ll need a friend when news of this gets out...”

“You know you’ll always have a friend in me, darling,” Victor said quietly. He reached across the table for her hands. Her fingers were ice cold, and he closed his hands around them, trying to rub some warmth into them with his thumbs.

She took another deep breath, but she still seemed shaky. “My father’s going to be so mad,” she whispered.

“You father loves you more than life itself.” Victor smiled gently.

“Still.”

He wished he could do something about the fear he could see in her eyes. Perhaps distraction would work.

“So… who is it who has you up at four A.M. these days?” He winked for good measure. His emotions were all over the place. Sadness. Relief. Hope. Curiosity. “You work so much… do I know him?”

“Indirectly…” Isabella took a drink from her water glass before she started dabbing at her face with the corner of her napkin.

“Remember when I was sent to Canada?” She kept her eyes on the table cloth.

“Mhm. Scouting maple syrup suppliers for our organic range and trying to get Leroy to buy in.” He nodded.

He drank too, suddenly wishing he had ordered something stronger than water despite still feeling the previous night in every part of his body.

“The Leroys sent their son to the airport to pick me up and show me round their maple plantations and syrup factories, and damn, that guy is so infuriating and full of himself! Do you know he has a maple leaf tattooed on his arm? He’s been calling me nonstop, and even though I’ve told him a thousand times that I need time and that I’m engaged he just wouldn’t stop wearing down my defences… he threatened so many times to just hop on a plane and face it out with you personally, the _stupid_ idiot… and he wouldn’t stop sending me flowers and gifts, like a pillow with his _stupid_ grinning face printed on…” She paused for air.

There was something in the fervent way she seemed to point out his flaws that seemed off, and…

“Oh my god!” Victor gasped. “You _like_ him!”

Isabella flushed crimson and withdrew her hands from his.

Victor pouted, but his eyes sparked mischief again. “I don’t know how to feel about being replaced with the Leroys’ obnoxious son.”

“Sometimes… something just happens!” she said.

The choice of words sobered Victor up instantly. Sometimes… something happens, he thought, and fought the uncalled for memories of a movie night and the delightful blush on Yuuri’s face as a heartbreakingly romantic dancing scene unfolded on the TV screen. Yuuri’s scene, he always thought of it as that now. Had Yuuri taken Vicchan to the park today? Had they been waiting for him and Makkachin?

“I’m sorry,” Victor said softly, “you’re absolutely right. If he makes you happy, that’s all that matters.”

He noticed a waiter hovering nearby, one brave soldier finally daring to step closer now that the crisis seemed to be averted. “Let’s still have lunch, Bella.” Victor smiled across the table. “It would be rude not to, after hogging the table all this time.”

She contemplated that thought for a moment. Then she nodded. “I haven’t felt like eating for a while because I was so stressed over this whole situation, but I could really do with some pasta now.”

Victor smiled and signalled the waiter, apologising in that disarming manner he had before ordering their usual favourites.

“How are we going to tell people at work that the engagement is off?” Isabella asked later, when she had successfully fought Victor over paying for lunch and allowed him to help her into her light summer coat instead. As they stepped out into the street, she looked scared again.

Victor could hear what she left unspoken. The moment she came out with a new boyfriend everyone would think she had been the one to break things off, leaving Victor behind for someone else. It wasn’t something he wanted for either of them.

“Leave it to me. I’ll talk to Yakov and Lilia. We’ll think of something that won’t let you look like the bad one in this and me like a sad loser.” Victor pulled her into a hug. Isabella’s arms wrapped tight around him, her voice full of emotion right next to his ear as she thanked him for everything. He felt her discreetly slipping something in the pocket of his blazer, and he knew it was the engagement ring he’d given her.

“Thank you, too,” he replied, squeezing her tight, overcome with sudden sadness as he remembered their happy moments. “It hasn’t been right for some time, has it?” He felt her shaking her head in his embrace.

“You know what I read once? When two people break up, four have a chance to be happy,” she said when she finally pulled back, looking up at him with teary eyes and a soft smile on her lips.

“And where did you read that? One of your Instagram memes?” He laughed softly.

Her face confirmed his suspicion, and he laughed harder, rubbing one hand over her upper arm.

They said their good-byes before they went their separate ways, and the echo of arrangements made for things to be collected from each other’s apartments put a heaviness into his steps that made Victor feel the way home took forever.

He collected Makkachin from his neighbour’s and took her to the park. She romped around a bit and he followed, shedding his blazer in the summer sun and carrying it over one arm as he followed her slowly, eyes hidden behind sunglasses. He was so, _so_ tired. The lack of sleep and the emotional turmoil were beginning to take its toll on him. But there were things he needed to do.

The phone call to Yakov was brief, and the grave acceptance in Yakov’s voice left Victor feeling raw. For a long time he hadn’t felt this unsettling nervousness anymore, the fear of being a disappointment to Yakov.

His phone buzzed with an incoming message in his pocket just minutes later, and for a moment hope flared up inside him that it might be Yuuri, followed by dread over how they would possibly go on from here.

It wasn’t Yuuri though, but a text message from Yakov.

_Vitya. All is good. As long as you are happy. That is all we want._

Victor couldn’t hold back a chuckle. Yakov did not talk about feelings. Neither did he write and send text messages. Especially not personal ones. This was Lilia’s doing, and Victor laughed some more, imagining the stern look Lilia must have given Yakov when she urged him to send Victor this message. Warmth unfurled in his chest. He sent a quick text back, addressing Yakov as well as Lilia, letting them know that he was looking forward to their next family dinner. They had moved them to Thursday evenings, and with Yura there now as well as Mila, there was more talk and laughter than had ever been in their house. For a fleeting moment Victor imagined bringing Yuuri along to those dinners, and it made his heart flatter and his insides dance.

Calling Makka away from where she was barking up a tree at a squirrel, he walked on.

Victor’s feet found their way instinctively to the bench where he usually met Yuuri. He picked up a stick that Makka brought him and threw it, and they played fetch for a little while. Then Makka seemed to lose interest and came to nudge Victor’s chin with her head instead until he leaned in to hug her, burying his face in her fur for comfort.

As he did so, his gaze fell on the mesh-wire waste bin near the bench, and the two coffee cups with a familiar logo lying at the top of the pile. One of them seemed to be full still, he could see brown liquid trickling slowly through a small hole punched in the lid from where it lay upside down in the trash. The sight made something ache inside him, a bittersweet pain as he thought about Yuuri waiting for him in vain.

Makka gave a sharp bark, almost as if she could hear his thoughts.

“I know, my beautiful girl,” Victor murmured into her fur. “I miss them too.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

When Yuuri came in to work on Monday morning, the door to Victor’s office was open, but Victor wasn’t there. Yuuri went about his tasks as usual, fetching the mail and stopping for a brief chat with Jamie. Chris had his next business trip to draw up so Yuuri spent about an hour in his office going over the meetings he would need to schedule and flights and accommodation he would need to book for him.

Back at his desk he glanced across the hall at the still open door, the unoccupied desk.

Steph was in the kitchen when Yuuri came in to make a cup of tea. He filled the kettle with water and leaned against the sink as he waited for the water to boil, watching the coffee machine fill Steph’s cup very slowly.

“Victor not in yet?” he asked as casually as he could.

Behind her dark-rimmed glasses, Steph’s eyes widened. “You haven’t heard?” she asked, quietly.

“Heard what?” Yuuri frowned and reached for the kettle to pour water into his cup.

“Yakov pulled us off the prenup he had us drawing up.” Steph leaned in closer, lowering her voice. “The engagement’s been called off.”

And Yuuri, who hadn’t told anyone about the kiss he’d shared with Victor on Saturday night, not even Phichit, felt sick.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They kissed!
> 
> Also, I never expected that my _Sumikko Gurashi_ stamp set would ever feature in one of my stories. xD


	7. Rules to Friendship

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Friendships, drinks, and dancing... people get closer. And closer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm late with this today, I am sorry. I wrote until the last moment, and then the proof-reading drove me a little nuts. But. Here they are.
> 
> I hope you are all keeping well and staying healthy. Lots of love to everyone who's in quarantine or restricted in their movements (I currently am, gatherings are forbidden and one shouldn't leave the house until necessary and not in groups; I still have to go to work though) and just anyone who is struggling with this situation. These are shitty times, but we'll get through them. 💖 
> 
> Shout-out to Tutti - thank you for your advice and for Yuuri's tummy. ;)

**7 – Rules to Friendship**

On Tuesday morning Victor was already at his desk when Yuuri came in to work. His door was open, but there was no cheerful “Good morning, Yuuri!” Yuuri hurried past Victor’s door in silence, through he saw from the corners of his eye that Victor didn’t look up from his computer screen. Yuuri got the mail from the mail box and dared another stolen glance inside Victor’s offing in passing, dread pooling in his stomach when he saw how tired and pale Victor looked. And, of course. Sad.

Yuuri sorted and stamped the mail in silence, then placed it in his usual folder and got up to take it inside to Chris. Chris gave him a brief nod as he took the folder from him.

“I’m doing a conference call with Mickey and that potential new partner in Abu Dhabi now, so I’ll be unavailable for a while,” Chris said as Yuuri assembled his coffee cup and saucer to take them away.

“Of course.” Yuuri nodded. He noticed the ash tray was empty despite Chris having been here for at least an hour. He rose one eyebrow but didn’t say anything.

He took the cup and saucer to the kitchen, trying not to make too much noise with the spoon clanking against the china as he moved and put them into the dishwasher. Made himself a cup of tea.

Back at his desk he finalised some details for Chris’ upcoming trip to Abu Dhabi, or at least that was what he was telling himself. In truth he was stalling, casting stolen glances towards Victor’s office and trying to get a grip on this overwhelming need to do something about that melancholy he could feel oozing out of Victor’s officelike a sad little stream trickling across the hall and lapping at his feet. He lasted about ten minutes, then he grabbed a signature file from one corner of his desk, jumped up and headed over to Victor’s office.

“Yuuri.” Victor smiled when he looked up, though he cocked one eyebrow in surprise when Yuuri closed the door and leaned back against it from the inside for a moment.

“I’m sorry, I think I haven’t been very communicative today…” Victor started but Yuuri shook his head.

“It’s okay. I just…” He swallowed hard. “How are you?”

A sad smile ghosted over Victor’s face. “Tired. It’s been… an eventful couple of days.”

Yuuri felt his heart jump into his throat.

“Do you need me to sign anything?” Victor nodded at the signature file Yuuri was hugging to his chest like a most precious gift.

“Oh.” Yuuri blinked and lowered his arms, frowning at the file. “That’s empty. It’s just…”

“Yuuuuri! Have you brought an alibi prop to not draw attention?” Victor’s smile looked a little more cheerful.

Yuuri took a deep breath, trying to pick out the right words from the absolute shambles swirling around his head.

“I just wanted to… I heard about the engagement.” He chewed on his lower lip.

Victor breathed a tired sigh. “You and the whole company, I dare say.”

“Victor.”

Yuuri’s chest felt painfully tight when he felt Victor’s gaze on him, curious, asking, expectant.

“Victor, I am so, so sorry! About Saturday night! I don’t know what got into me, and I shouldn’t have had all that champagne but I swear I wasn’t drunk when we… I was just overwhelmed and it was such a nice moment, I think I got carried away, and I’m really, really sorry of that got you in trouble.”

It took Victor several patient and one slightly impatient exclamations of “Yuuri!”, some frantic waving of his hand and a slide back with his chair from his desk until he was able to get a word in.

Yuuri still felt tight as a bow, ready to snap, even though he was finally quiet.

“Yuuri.” Victor tilted his head, looking at Yuuri somewhat confused. “Do you think it’s your fault? That my engagement was called off?”

Yuuri tried to repress a groan. He still felt a flush all the way up to his ears, and his insides heaving with guilt, even though he couldn’t have said whether it was guilt over his own actions or over not telling Victor about the fact that he’d overheard Isabella very obviously cheating on him.

“Wasn’t it?” Yuuri asked. He hated how his voice sounded a little squeaky, but there was no air left in him, it had been punched right out of his chest.

“Oh Yuuri, it wasn’t!” Victor looked concerned. “I know I should have called you, but then things spiralled out of control and I was so tired, and…” He ran his hands through his hair. 

“I’m sorry,” Yuuri mumbled, suddenly overcome with remorse. “That was quite overconfident of me to presume that… but…”

“No, Yuuri.” Victor shook his head. “ _I’m_ sorry. I should have realised that you would blame yourself, and… _please_ , don’t think it’s your fault.”

He sighed, rubbing the bridge if his nose between two fingers. Muttered, “I could do with a coffee.”

“I’ll make one,” Yuuri said quickly and was out the door faster than Victor could blink. He still heard Victor starting “Yuuri, that’s not…” before he closed the door behind him.

When he came back with a small tray a short time later, Yuuri kicked the door shut again with his foot. He rounded Victor’s desk and placed the coffee and a small plate of chocolate biscuits in front of Victor. Being this close to Victor meant he could catch a whiff of his perfume, feel the ghost of his warmth breaching his personal space. It meant the wish to kiss him again was back with a vengeance. This was not good, Yuuri thought.

“Thank you,” Victor said quietly, reaching for a biscuit immediately.

“You’re welcome.” Yuuri stepped away and put down the empty tray on the small coffee table beside the couch.

“Take a seat, Yuuri?” Victor asked, nodding at the sofa as he put the second half of the biscuit in his mouth.

Yuuri hesitated, but he knew he still had too many thoughts running round in his head to stop this conversation yet. He still felt raw, even though he had been over this so many times in his head now.

“Yuuri, can I tell you something before you hear any gossip?” Victor looked at him over the brim of his coffee cup.

“Of course.” Yuuri nodded.

“Bella…” Victor took a deep breath as if trying to fill his lungs with courage. “She’s in love with someone else.”

“ _She_ dumped _you_??!” Yuuri shot up from the sofa, outraged on Victor’s behalf. Realising how loud he must have sounded, he clamped one hand in front of his mouth and hoped the trainees hadn’t heard him. Jamie was a terrible blabbermouth.

Victor actually had to laugh a little at his outburst. “No, Yuuri.” He fixated Yuuri with his gaze, and Yuuri felt he had no choice but to sink back down on the couch again, his eyes on Victor’s.

“It was a mutual decision. I… I asked to meet her to tell her I would like to… end our engagement, and she was actually glad. Apparently we haven’t made each other happy for quite some time now.”

“I’m sorry.”

Their eyes stayed locked for the longest moment. Yuuri fought the urge to jump up and give Victor a hug. He felt stretched like a rubber band by the certainty that this was exactly what Victor needed in one direction, and the feeling that he wasn’t the right person to do that in the other one. Relief seeped slowly into the corners of his mind, but there was one thing still troubling him, and he didn’t think he could leave this room without telling Victor. He rose from the couch and walked over to the filing cabinet. Victor’s collection of trinkets had gathered the finest layer of dust again since he had last see to them, and he picked up the small wooden Makkachin, taking comfort from the dear face that looked so much like her. He ran one finger very gently over her head. The wood felt smooth and cool to his touch. Yuuri was sure Victor was watching him; he had developed a sixth sense for feeling Victor’s eyes on him.

“Victor.” Yuuri put the wooden figure down and finally turned around.

Victor cocked his head expectantly.

“I knew.” Yuuri swallowed hard around the lump in his throat, kneading his hands in front of his chest. “I overheard a phone call Isabella made on Saturday evening. I… I didn’t think it was my place to tell you, but it just… made me angry. For you, I mean.” He mumbled the last part and looked down at his shoes for a moment, frowning when he realised he could probably have given them a shine before wearing them.

When he looked up, half of Victor’s face was hidden behind his coffee cup, but from the slight crinkle around his eyes alone Yuuri was sure he was smiling a little. It made Yuuri glad. He turned back towards the trinkets, checking for dust here and there, wiping some off as tenderly as he could, moving others into place, making sure all the Russian dolls were in straight lines. He heard no typing behind him, just the faint clank of china being put down on china, and the quiet crumbling of another biscuit in Victor’s mouth. 

Yuuri didn’t know what to feel. He didn’t want to address the other elephant in the room, not now, when Victor was obviously upset, no matter how amicable his engagement had ended. Yuuri knew him well enough by now; Victor was not the kind of person who just brushed off the end of a personal relationship. Whatever that kiss had meant or could mean now that Victor was not engaged any more, right here and now was probably not the right moment to address it.

He suddenly wondered if Chris was still on the phone or whether he was already looking for him. But Jamie would surely have let him know if that was the case. He went over Chris’ calendar in his mind, trying to remember what other appointments he had today. Then he remembered something. And felt nausea plummet in his stomach.

Yuuri swung round.

“Are you sick?”

“What?” Victor looked up from his coffee cup that was back in his hand.

Yuuri moved closer towards Victor’s desk. “Did the doctors find something? Is this why the engagement is called off? Does Isabella not want to marry a sick man?”

“Yuuri, what are you talking about?” Victor shook his head, visibly confused. He put down his coffee.

“That appointment…” Yuuri hated the urgency in his voice, but he was on a roll.

“What appointment?” Victor’s frown deepened. His brow was crinkled as he went back over his calendar in his head, until he paused. And blushed. “Oh! _That_ appointment!” Victor buried his face in his hands and groaned out something that sounded like “This is so embarrassing!”

“Bella and I… ages ago.” Victor sighed like from the very depth of his heart and rubbed his hands across his face. “We talked about having children. And getting thoroughly checked to see if we were… you know. Able to. Physically. I’d been putting that appointment off again and again. I thought if I finally do this I could somehow show that I was still invested in this relationship.”

“Oh.” Yuuri winced. _Oh._ “And is… everything okay?”

He knew he should have kept his mouth shut the moment the words were out.

“Yes, Yuuri, I am perfectly healthy and my sperm is top notch apparently, for all the good that knowledge is going to do anyone now!” Victor sounded on edge.

“Right.” Yuuri nodded to nobody in particular. He felt like an absolute ass.

“Yuuri…” Victor started. He sounded tired and remorseful, but Yuuri retreated quietly from the room and closed the door without a sound. 

The internal messenger was already blinking by the time he got back to his desk and sat down.

**Victor Nikiforov**

**_online_ **

_Yuuri_

_I’m sorry_

_I’m just….._

**Yuuri Katsuki**

**_online_ **

_it’s okay_

_actually, it’s not_

_I shouldn’t have pried, and I shouldn’t have made assumptions_

_and I especially shouldn’t have snooped around your diary_

**Victor Nikiforov**

**_online_ **

_I should learn how to mark private appointments as private_

**Yuuri Katsuki**

**_online_ **

_you should_

😉

**Victor Nikiforov**

**_online_ **

_I’m hopeless with computers_

**Yuuri Katsuki**

**_online_ **

_Tell me something I don’t know_

😉

He added the emojis for good measure and to lighten the mood.

The red light on his telephone was on, telling him Chris was still on the phone. Yuuri watched the line at the bottom of the chat window, saw that Victor was typing, then not anymore. No message came though. Yuuri closed the chat window and went to his email instead, trying to concentrate on work. An email from Minami-kun had arrived, inviting Chris, Victor and Sara to Tokyo to return the visit and talk over business proposals. Yuuri was just about to send a standard thank you email and say that they would get back to him as soon as possible, when the small chat window popped up again.

**Victor Nikiforov**

**_online_ **

_I feel sad_

**Yuuri Katsuki**

**_online_ **

_that’s normal_

_you just ended a long-term relationship_

He watched the window for a bit, but Victor wasn’t typing, so Yuuri closed it again and went back to his email. Once he had sent a reply to Minami-kun, he forwarded his email to Chris, Victor and Sara with a short explanation of what he had already replied. Then he opened the messenger once more and typed what he had been meaning to tell Victor all morning and wished he done so instead of meddling with his private affairs.

**Yuuri Katsuki**

**_online_ **

_actually_

_I brought you a bento_

**Victor Nikiforov**

**_online_ **

_you did????_

_Yuuuuuuuuri!!_

**Yuuri Katsuki**

**_online_ **

_I’ll leave it on the roof for you_

_in the corner behind the entrance_

_round the side of the wall where the door leads back inside_

_it’s where I go when I feel sad_

It was later in the afternoon when there was a careful knock on the frame of Victor’s open door. He looked up.

“Sorry, Victor… I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

“Yūko.” He smiled, tiredly. He had completely forgotten the time. “What can I do for you?”

“I was looking through my phone and found something I thought you might like to see.”

She stepped further into the room and closed the door behind her.

“My girls must have relieved me off my phone again on Saturday and, well.” She came closer until she stood in front of his desk. With a sheepish grin, she called up something in her gallery and handed Victor the phone across the desk.

“Lutz was very adamant that you should see this.”

Victor quickly went over the triplets and their colour schemes in his head.

“Bun? Lots of light blue?” he asked, remembering how the sad little girl on the bench had lit up when he’d asked her to dance.

“Yeah, that’s Lutz.” Yūko was flustered, clearly not used to people taking the time and effort to tell her triplets apart.

Victor pressed the ‘Play’ symbol on the video. His hand shot up to cover his mouth. On the small screen, he saw himself dancing with Yuuri in the kiddie disco. He hadn’t even noticed that Lutz had been filming. He hadn’t noticed anything but Yuuri, to be honest. He could see it now, simply looking at the expression on his own face. He was looking at Yuuri like he was the best thing since sliced bread. They were laughing, having so much fun, dancing without a care. And they looked good. They looked so good together. Anyone who saw this video would think they were head over heels in love with each other. Victor felt his heart doing somersaults in his chest. Like he was holding something very precious in his hand.

“I can send it to you if you like?”

Victor looked up at the sound of Yūko’s voice.

“Please.” He nodded, smiling a little embarrassed.

His phone buzzed with the incoming message.

“And don’t worry, this is of course between you and me,” Yūko said from the door as she took her leave.

“Of course. Thank you, Yūko.”

Victor waited until he could hear the lift door close before he opened his inbox and watched the video again.

Another knock broke Victor’s concentration just as he was about to finish an email.

“Fuck, it’s like Grand Central Station in here today!” he said as he pushed his mouse away and looked up.

Chris was leaning in the doorway, one eyebrow raised in a telling manner.

Victor rolled his shoulders, noticing only now how tense he was and how late it was as his gaze landed on the time on his telephone display. He hadn’t even noticed dusk falling outside.

“Pool tournament at my place?” Chris asked when he had Victor’s attention.

“Do I have to talk?”

“Not if you don’t want to.”

Victor pondered over the offer for a moment, index finger against his lips.

“Is your fridge stocked up with ice and gin and tonic water?”

Chris chuckled. “Of course it is, _mon cher_.”

Victor leaned forward for the mouse and closed his email, then shut down his computer.

“Let’s go,” he said and rose from his chair.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

When Yuuri came home from work that day, he found his three best friends waiting for him on his sofa.

He took of his shoes and coat, placed his keys and messenger bag in their designated spots in the small hallway, picked up Vicchan who’d come to greet him, and stepped cautiously into his living room.

“What’s going on here?” he asked, looking from one to the other.

Phichit spoke first. “We think Victor needs cheering up, and we thought we could ask him to Bollywood night again, but we wanted your opinion first.”

“Why?” Yuuri shook his head, slightly irritated. “You know I wouldn’t oppose this.”

“See?” Phichit turned to Leo and Guang Hong.

“We know you have a crush on Victor…” Guang Hong started another attempt.

“I don’t have a crush on Victor,” Yuuri said almost immediately.

Leo rolled his eyes.

Guang Hong sighed.

Phichit threw up his hands in defeat.

For a moment there was silence, only Vicchan yipping quietly at Yuuri so that Yuuri set him down on the floor. Yuuri sighed. This wasn’t exactly how he had imagined his evening to pan out. His stomach rumbled.

“Did you at least make dinner while you were planning your ambush?” he asked.

They exchanged sheepish looks amongst each other. Yuuri walked over into the kitchen and opened his fridge. He was looking for food as much as he was trying to get a grip on the rollercoaster of emotions Guang Hong’s remark and his friends’ knowing expressions had provoked in him. Was it because they knew him so well or was he, god help him, so obvious? And part of him was dying to tell them about Saturday night, have someone flail with him because the feels wanted to fizz out of him like lemonade from a bottle that had been shaken, while another part wanted to keep those moments close to his heart like precious stones that would lose their shine when they were exposed to the sun.

His fridge held some grated cheese, an opened pack of soy milk, at least ten bottles of Ramune, assorted Japanese condiments, vegetables, lots of plastic containers holding all kinds of things he used for bento like pickled cabbage and cucumber or already rolled Japanese omelette, salmon, miso, chopped spring onions, minced meat, eggs, _natto_. Nothing that would make dinner for four. Unless…

“How about Shepherd’s Pie?” he asked, turning around, resting one arm on top of the open fridge door.

Three heads nodded, and he was sure there was a little guilt and embarrassment in those nods.

“We could help?” Phichit suggested.

“Help!” Yuuri snorted. “You will _cook_! That’s the least you can do after springing this on me.”

Yuuri put potatoes, onions and carrots on the kitchen table, got some knives and peelers from the cutlery drawer and set his friends to work while he opened a bottle of Ramune for himself and sat beside them, watching and giving instructions. As they started on the vegetables, they discussed what movie they could watch with Victor to cheer him up.

“How about some more Deepika movies?” Leo asked. “He liked her.”

“‘Padmaavat’? We’ve been wanting to see that forever.” Phichit waved his peeler in the air.

Yuuri shook his head. “Ranveer plays a psychopath and all the women commit mass suicide? I don’t think so.”

“It’s better than a love story after a break-up,” Phichit argued.

“‘Ram-Leela’?” Guang Hong suggested.

“That’s basically Romeo and Juliet and they also die,” Leo said. “‘Kal Ho Naa Ho’?”

“Major character death, so, no,” Phichit countered.

Guang Hong pouted over the onion he was chopping. “Mhm… ‘Om Shanti Om’ then.”

“We kissed,” Yuuri said. “Victor and I kissed at the summer party.”

Leo dropped the potato he was peeling and the peeler with it.

“I KNEW it!” Phichit yelled and threw his own peeler and half peeled carrot on the table. The peeler bounced off the table top and Leo caught it with incredible presence of mind and put it gently down beside his chopping board.

Guang Hong smiled.

“I _knew_ there was something going on!” Phichit jumped up from his chair and leaned with both hands on the table. “Did something happen in Milan? The tension that Sunday night after you were back and Sara made pizza was un-fucking-believable!”

“I thought you didn’t notice!” Yuuri pushed his chair back from the table, staring at Phichit wide-eyed. It came out much louder than he’d wanted it to but he was in shock, he reasoned.

“Yuuri, how could I _not_ notice?” Phichit sounded slightly hysterical, and slightly enervated. “How could _anyone_ not notice!! You set the house on fire like Charlie and Mohini! I half expected to hear sirens outside any moment as the fire brigade pulls up!”

Yuuri’s jaw positively dropped.

“Peach, you need to calm the fuck down,” Leo said. He reached out and tugged on Phichit’s sleeve until Phichit sat down again, still glaring at Yuuri.

“Why didn’t you say something?” Yuuri asked and moved in closer again with his chair.

“I thought you would come and tell your best friend in your own time!” Phichit sounded hurt. “Preferably _before_ you go around kissing engaged men!”

“I didn’t go around kissing…” Yuuri started, but Phichit cut him off.

“What happened to ‘Don’t make me get my hopes up, Peach’??? What happened to not wanting to get hurt?”

“Phichit.” Guang Hong said, softly yet with so much authority that all heads turned to him.

“You need to calm down. I’m sure Yuuri had his reasons for waiting to tell you.”

Yuuri felt like he was getting smaller and smaller in his chair when Guang Hong turned his gaze on him.

“I was trying to figure things out,” he mumbled. “And I was embarrassed. I mean I knew Victor was very probably engaged and I shouldn’t be having all those dreams about him…”

“ _What_ dreams?” three voices asked in unison.

Yuuri stared at the tiny bubbles dancing in his bottle of Ramune while he felt himself colouring crimson.

“I see.” Guang Hong was grinning from one ear to the other when Yuuri looked up.

So was Leo, although he at least tried to hide it between one hand.

“This is no good, I cannot possibly cook dinner after this!” Phichit announced and picked up his phone from the table. “I’m ordering pizza!”

“Order beer as well,” Leo said.

“Lots of it,” Yuuri added.

Guang Hong was still grinning at Yuuri. “And ice-cream.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“Ooops!”

Victor looked confused at the cue in his hands and then at the billiard balls on the pool table. Why weren’t they moving?

“You missed.” Sprawled out on the huge double-bed sized sofa in his game room, Chris was laughing. “Go again.”

“Isn’t that against the rules?” Victor was laughing too, holding on to the edge of the pool table for support.

“We ditched the rules about an hour ago, _mon cher_ ,” Chris reminded him. “We’re wild now.”

Victor snort-laughed and leaned over the pool table, positioning his cue for another shot. The bottom of the cue was swimming a little before the green felt and he shook his head and blinked several times, trying to concentrate on the position of his thumb and index finger. The tip was definitely in line with the cue ball now, but then that was what he had thought a moment ago too. He took aim and hit, this time sinking the 8 in his designated pocket.

“I won!” He placed the cue on the pool table because he couldn’t be bothered to find the case where Chris normally kept them. Which was more than could be said for Chris himself, who had dropped his cue somewhere on the way to the sofa. Victor stepped over it carefully and slumped down on the other side. It was a ridiculously large sofa, but then his best friend was also a ridiculously spoilt man. And they were both ridiculously drunk.

“Where’s my prize?” Victor closed his eyes. Just five minutes, he told himself, then he would call a taxi.

“I’ve already given you my whole pool piggy for this month.” Chris pointed at the ceramic piggy bank that sat on a shelf on the wall and was always well fed with prize money for Chris’ pool tournaments.

“All I have to offer is my body now!” Chris exclaimed dramatically.

Victor groaned. “Keep it in your pants, Giacometti, nobody wants to see this.” He reached blindly for one of the fancy gold lamé cushions and aimed to hit Chris with it. He missed.

“Can I have another G&T?” Victor mumbled, hugging a second cushion he had pulled close.

“The gin is gone.” Chris turned onto his back and placed one arm over his eyes because the ceiling lights seemed blinding all of a sudden.

“Why is the gin gone?”

“Because it is a vile drink that turns even the most respectable men into complete scoundrels,” Chris quoted his favourite scene from the movie they had had playing as background entertainment earlier.

Victor raised his head from the pillow. He looked completely dishevelled. “I see no respectable men here.” His head fell face-down into the cushion again.

“Fair.” Chris reached for a remote control that switched the ceiling light off and the large flat-screen TV on the opposite wall on. For a moment it was almost completely dark in the room, the TV being the only source of light. There was a faint horn sound, waves lapping, then the voice of a girl singing.

“How many more times are we going to watch this movie?” Victor asked, face turned in Chris’ direction.

“Until Will Turner stops being cute.”

Victor moved around a little until he was lying in a position that allowed him to see the screen and remain comfortable until he called that taxi. Next time his eyes opened it was to see Jack Sparrow hop on shore from the top of the mast of his sunken boat.

“Chris.”

“Victor.”

“We’re falling asleep.”

“It’s a comfortable sofa.”

“We’ve got work in the morning.”

“S’okay, _mon cher_ , I’ll explain to your boss.”

But Victor had already fallen asleep.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Yuuri was sitting in one corner of his sofa, hugging his knees to his chest, a bottle of beer in one hand. Phichit was in the opposite corner, legs stretched out, nursing a beer of his own. They were alone now; a drunk Leo had carried a very drunk Guang Hong down the hall to his apartment a little while ago.

“I’m really sorry I didn’t tell you, Peach,” Yuuri said. He had told his three friends pretty much everything over the course of the evening, but he hadn’t had a chance to speak with Phichit alone. By now he had had way too much to drink and he was starting to feel a little melancholy. And guilty. “I was worried you would be angry. After I told you not to tease and not to make me get my hopes up, I went and did exactly the opposite.”

Phichit sighed. “Yuuri, I’m not angry over what you did, I was angry because _you did not tell me_ because you think it would make me angry.” He frowned. “Did that just make any sense?”

“No.” Yuuri grinned.

“Okay, so…” Phichit started but Yuuri cut him off.

“Peach! I was kidding! Of course it made sense. In your own crooked Phichit way.”

“Yuuri.” Phichit took a sip from his bottle. “You’re a grown-up. I’m not going to tell you what to do or what to leave. I trust you can make your own decisions. If you decide to go ahead and get your heart broken… _hypothetically speaking_!” He raised his voice when Yuuri opened his mouth to speak.

“Whatever you decide to do, I’m going to support you, and if it’s the most ridiculous thing in the world like wearing that horrendous sweater your grandma knit instead of burning it. I love you, and I will always have your back. And I hate to see you hurt, but if you think that this is a road you want to go down, then I will be here with the tissues and the ice-cream, and the shovel to bury a body if I have to. I just want you to talk to me. Don’t shut me out, and don’t think I don’t notice. Because I _always_ notice! Okay?”

He was a little breathless after his passionate speech, glaring at Yuuri across the sofa.

“Okay.” Yuuri’s voice was thick with emotion and he felt tears in his eyes. “I would really love to get up and give you a hug now, Peach, but I’m afraid I’m a little unsteady on my feet.”

“That’s okay,” Phichit grinned. “You can hug me twice tomorrow.”

For a while they were quiet, drinking beer and enjoying the comfortable silence they were able to share.

“So…” Phichit said at last. “What are you going to do now? About Victor, I mean. Make a move?”

Yuuri exhaled a long breath. “He just came out of a long relationship. An engagement, Peach. He was going to marry Isabella, he planned a life. Children even. And he’s sad. I think he needs time. I just… want to be his friend.”

“His friend,” Phichit repeated. “So we’re back at not getting your hopes up?”

Yuuri shrugged. “I guess?”

“Just remember the last time you said that, you—”

“Phichit.” Yuuri raised his eyebrows like he had learned from the best.

“Okay, okay, no need to do my own eyebrow move at me.” Phichit sighed. “I’ll just be quietly in my corner with my pom poms, waiting for the right moment to cheer.”

“That’s my boy,” Yuuri quoted another one of Phichit’s trademark phrases and leaned forward to poise his beer at his friend. He grinned when Phichit did his eyebrow wriggle, a thousand times better than Yuuri would ever be able to, and knocked his bottle against Yuuri’s.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The next morning Yuuri was standing in the small office tea kitchen watching an aspirin dissolving in a glass of water, drawing comfort from the quiet fizzing sound. The door was opened and Victor walked in, though he forgot that this door needed a gentle hand to close it or else it would fall shut with much more vigour than necessary. Which was why it was normally left open, though Yuuri couldn’t take the noise of the trainees typing at reception across the hall today so he had closed the door. It fell shut behind Victor with a loud bang.

“Ow,” Yuuri said, willing the tablet to dissolve faster.

“Yuuri…” Victor stepped closer to the small counter. “If I didn’t know better I’d say _you’re_ the one nursing a break-up induced hangover.”

“Who needs a break-up when you have friends?” Yuuri muttered.

“Phichit?” Victor asked.

“Hm. And the other two of the usual suspects.” Yuuri looked up and gasped a little when he saw Victor.

“Chris?” he asked, empathically.

Victor made a sound that Yuuri took for approval. They were both looking at the glass now where the liquid began to clear. Yuuri sighed, pushed the glass towards Victor, and took a new glass plus a tablet from the pack of aspirin he had deposited with the glasses just in case. He filled the glass with water and put in the tablet, watching it fizz up all over again.

“Yuuuuri…” Victor said as if he was trying to refuse but his pounding head told him otherwise.

Yuuri tried to shake his head but it hurt too much so he just pushed the glass back towards Victor, who gratefully accepted it.

“You need this more than I do. Victor… don’t take this the wrong way but... you look like shit.”

“Wow, Yuuri, so mean.” Victor pouted before he drank several gulps from the glass. “Not all of us can carry a hangover with as much grace as you obviously can.”

“I would laugh if it didn’t hurt my head. I’m laughing on the inside.”

“Funny enough, I think I can _hear_ you laughing.”

Their eyes met and they laughed out loud, then winced in unison.

Chris stumbled into the tea kitchen with a groan. Everyone cursed when the door fell shut once more. Chris’ mouth opened into a hopeful ‘Oh!’ shape at the sight of the fizzing white tablet in the glass in front of Yuuri.

“This wouldn’t by any chance be what I hope it is?”

Resigned, Yuuri heaved another sigh and opened the cupboard yet again for a third glass and a third aspirin.

“Chris.” Victor cast a blood-shot glance at him. “You can take off your sunglasses now.”

“I can’t, Victor, and you know exactly why!” Chris said with a voice like ten pounds of gravel. “My eyes look even worse than yours. You skinned me alive at pool last night.”

“Well, you know that they say... unlucky in love, lucky at cards, or something,” Victor said.

His eyes met Yuuri’s.

“Or something,” Yuuri murmured.

For a long moment all three of them looked longingly at the aspirin dissolving in water, Yuuri and Chris waiting for it to get into their hungover system, Victor already waiting for his to hit.

The door was opened yet again and Jamie poked his head in.

“I’m sorry, Chris… your father is one the phone,” he said, looking curiously around between the three of them. Chris actually looked like he was about to cry. Yuuri handed him one of the glasses and took the third one himself, and they slowly made their way to their desks. It was going to be a long, painful day.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

On Thursday Yuuri knocked on Victor’s doorframe after lunch. Victor looked up and smiled when he saw him.

“Yuuri. What can I do for you?”

“I have to accompany Chris to that charity function.” Yuuri stepped into the room and pointed at his upturned collar. “Do you have a matching tie for me?”

Victor’s eyes lit up like a dog’s at the sight of a juicy bone. He rolled his chair back and leaned down to his drawer. All the compartments were filled now, and he picked two he thought might match Yuuri’s suit best and stood up to walk around his desk, where Yuuri was already waiting.

“Yuuri,” Victor began while he was tying his usual Windsor knot with practised ease.

“Hm?” Yuuri tried to make as much of a noncommittal face as possible. He hoped he was wasn’t being called out. Had Victor noticed he’d been looking at his mouth? It had only been a second, two at most.

“As your personal shopping assistant I know you have a perfectly matching tie for this suit.” An amused smile played around Victor’s mouth, all the way up to his eyes. “But it’s every sweet of you to humour me.”

Yuuri blushed, which only seemed to tickle Victor even more. His smile widened as he pushed the finished knot up towards the collar and folded the collar back down.

“Come to Bollywood night tomorrow!” Yuuri said quickly. “The guys would really like to see you.”

“Would they now?” Victor chuckled softly as he went back around his desk, sat down and folded up the spare tie before he put it back in its compartment and closed the drawer.

“I’ll be there.” He smiled his heart-shaped smile at Yuuri.

Yuuri tried to hold back a satisfied smirk as he turned to leave Victor’s office.

“Yuuri.”

Yuuri turned around in the door.

“Do you regret what happened Saturday night?” Victor asked, head cocked in expectancy.

Yuuri felt heat crawl up his neck and face, even his ears peaked with it. He was glad it was Thursday and there were no trainees at reception. Chris and the two lawyers were working behind closed doors. On this side of the floor they were alone.

“No,” he said firmly, locking eyes with Victor.

Victor’s face gave nothing away.

“Then don’t apologise for it ever again.”

He smiled, and Yuuri felt weak in the knees. He couldn’t possibly say how he made it back to his desk because his feet were made of lead all of a sudden even though his heart felt like it could soar.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The next evening Yuuri opened the door and was nearly bowled over by Makkachin. Laughing, he gave her all the cuddles she deserved until she lost interest in him and bolted into the living room to say hello to everyone else. Yuuri found himself face to face with Victor, who still stood outside in the hallway. They smiled at each other a little awkwardly for a moment, the hesitation of ‚to hug or not to hug‘ hanging in the air, until they decided on the hug like in silent agreement, still laughing a little over their own silly undecidedness when they embraced. Yuuri hoped it wasn’t too obvious how he took a deep breath, suddenly craving this blend of musky perfume and shampoo and fabric softener, and perhaps a secret lunch break cigarette still lingering, that was Victor. He wondered if the hug lasted a little bit longer than normal perhaps, but then Victor took his time letting go of him too.

“So I brought these,” Victor said when he was finally inside Yuuri’s apartment and had closed the door. He handed Yuuri a paper shopping bag before he took off his shoes.

Yuuri peeked inside and started laughing. “Saved the day, as usual,” he said and took the papadums and coriander to the kitchen, where Phichit started a happy little dance.

Victor stepped through into the living room and was soon in his by now usual armchair, chatting with Guang Hong and Leo while cuddling dogs. Soon they were settled with food and ready to start the movie.

“It’s my favourite actress’ first movie!” Yuuri told Victor a little giddily as it kicked off with a song.

“That’s that guy my _babushka_ liked!” Victor exclaimed, pointing at the screen where Rishi Kapoor was dancing on a huge turning record wearing a ridiculous silver suit. “Are we watching an old one?”

Yuuri shook his head. “It’s meant to be 1970s Bollywood, they used bits of old movies. Look, the hero is imagining he’s Rishi Kapoor now.”

“Wow!” Victor laughed when he saw the by now well-known actor sporting the same ridiculous silver suit and curly hair. “He looks ridiculous.”

“Yep,” Phichit chimed in. “He may be the King of Bollywood, but curls do nothing for him.”

_[The movie starts out in 1970s Bollywood. Om Prakash is a junior artist in Bombay’s thriving film industry like his parents were before him, as is his best friend Pappu. Together they dream of their big break in movies. Om is deeply in love with the biggest actress of their time, Shantipriya, who is known as the ‘Dreamy Girl’ after her blockbuster movie. Every day Om goes to a bridge to talk to a huge Shanti poster, ignoring the looks and snickers of the people passing by. He tells Shanti of his hopes and dreams, and how she is his inspiration. Pappu shows up with Om’s mother after he told her that Om is “talking to his girlfriend on the bridge”. Om’s mother approves of her “daughter-in-law” and ties a holy thread from the temple around Om’s wrist that she says will help him meet Shanti very soon. Pappu adds that this will in fact happen tonight, because they are going to the premiere of Shanti’s new movie.]_

“This was her first movie,” Yuuri said again, this time only to Victor. “Look, this moment now. The first time she was seen on the big screen!”

He saw Victor’s obvious amusement at his excitement and shut up, eyes turned to the TV, but he could still see Victor looking at him from the corner of his eye.

“Look _at the screen_ , Victor!” he huffed. Victor did, but Yuuri knew he was still smiling.

_[Om and Pappu are among the crowd lining the red carpet at the movie premiere. A yellow limousine pulls up and Shanti gets out of the car. One sees her face in profile first before she turns to face the camera. She looks absolutely stunning in a magenta pink_ lehenga _, the long skirt and the tight waist-length blouse embellished with silver. Her make-up is typical of the decade, pale pink lipstick and thick eyeliner arched beyond the eyelid, her hair arranged in an intricate updo adorned with jewellery and white flowers.]_

Beside Yuuri, Victor uttered a quiet “Wow! Amazing!”

Eyes on the TV because he could never take them off at this moment, Yuuri smirked proudly to himself.

_[Om stares at Shanti completely smitten. It’s almost pathetic how much he is in love and longing for this girl. As shanti walks by him, a rhinestone on the hem of her_ dupatta, _her long shawl, gets caught in the thread tied around Om’s wrist so he is pulled along as she walks the red carpet. Eventually Shanti notices and laughs at the mishap, loosening her dupatta gently from Om’s wrist. A tattoo of the spiritual Sanskrit ‘Om’ symbol is visible on the inside of Om’s wrist. Om is stunned to be standing face to face with Shanti and just keeps looking at her, a man completely and utterly in love. As Shanti walks on, her dupatta freed, she looks back and smiles at Om, who is being dragged away by security guards, one hand placed on his heart.]_

“Oh I feel you, buddy!” Victor almost sighed the words, looking completely mesmerised at the screen. “This girl is a vision!“

Everyone chuckled, Yuuri especially.

“Yuuri. Is the boyfriend really good enough for her?” Victor asked.

“You should ask Yuuri to show you his essay he wrote on their relationship one drunken night,” Phichit said, followed by “Ouch!” when Leo slapped him from the couch.

Victor almost snorted out his drink. “Did you really, Yuuri?”

“No,” Yuuri snapped, sinking deeper in the sofa corner.

“Yuuuuri!” Victor lowered his voice and leaned over “Please tell me you’ll let me read that essay!”

“Shut _up_!” Yuuri swatted at Victor’s head but he couldn’t quite hold in a blush and a smile.

_[Pappu tells Om that they are going inside the movie theatre to see Shanti’s new film and presents him with two tickets that he stole from an actor while asking him for his autograph.]_

“They’re like us, Yuuri!” Phichitturned around to Yuuri with a smile. “I would totally relieve someone of movie tickets so you get to go to the premiere of a Deepika movie and be in the same cinema as her!”

“Thank you, Peach. I really appreciate it.” Yuuri smiled back at him.

_[Om can barely follow the movie because he keeps dreamily looking up at Shanti, who’s sitting in one of the VIP booths on the balcony. A song starts in the movie they’re watching, showing Shanti in various skimpy outfits that are typical for 1970s Bollywood, CGI’ed into actual Bollywood movies from the era. Om fantasises himself onto the screen too, dancing with Shanti in her sequences. Eventually the actor whose tickets Pappu stole shows up inside the movie theatre with security and they get thrown out.]_

“I know that song!” Victor said. “It’s…” He fell silent abruptly like he remembered this was something he’d better not address.

Yuuri frowned at him.

“It’s one of the songs used for the water and light shows at the Dubai Fountain,” Guang Hong said quietly.

“Oh.” Yuuri looked down at his plate. Never before had he found alu gobi so fascinating. Dubai meant Isabella.

“You mean it’s the song you danced to at the railing by the water’s edge, babe?” Leo deadpanned.

Guang Hong blushed and lowered his eyes.

“The Indian tourists and the people who clapped were not complaining,” Guang Hong murmured.

“Neither was I. I just hated that I wasn’t allowed to do _this_.” Leo hugged him tighter and placed a kiss in the curve of Guang Hong’s neck, which made Guang Hong blush up to the roots of his hair.

Yuuri felt Victor’s eyes on him, but he didn’t turn his head. Instead he tucked into his all gobi as if he hadn’t eaten in days and concentrated on the movie like he hadn’t seen it about twenty times already.

_[Om and Pappu are drunk and walking the streets of Bombay at night, praising Shanti’s acting. They end up outside the mansion of Rajesh Kapoor, the biggest movie star of their time. Pappu tells Om to change his name to Kapoor or he will never rise to fame in Bollywood. He firmly believes that one day Om is going to be a big superstar. He presents Om with the bottle they drank empty like an award, and Om makes a moving acceptance speech. Later Om sneaks into his house, as loud as drunk people are when they try to be quiet, waking his mother. She tells him she wasn’t asleep anyway because she will always wait for him, and he affectionally teases her about her ‘filmi dramatics’ and tells her that he’ll always come home, to her.]_

Yuuri handed Victor the tissues and heard a quiet, teary „Thank you.“

_[Om and Pappu are extras on Shanti’s next movie. Dramatic music plays as the film’s producer, Mukesh Mehra, arrives on the set in a fancy car. He gets out of the car and takes off his sunglasses, a very attractive man in a suit and white shirt, exhaling clouds of smoke from the cigarette in his hand. They are shooting a fire scene, and the main actor gets scared and runs off screaming, leaving Shanti in the middle of the burning sets instead of rescuing her like he’s supposed to for the shoot. Om sees a terrified Shanti surrounded by flames and runs in to save her. Pappu gives him hell afterwards for putting himself in danger. As Om snaps back at Pappu that none of this matters to him because Shanti’s safety was the most important thing at that moment, Shanti appears behind him and hears every word. Shanti thanks Om for what he did for her and offers him her friendship. As she thanks him again on leaving, Om interrupts her and says that there’s a rule to friendship: no sorry, no thank you!]_

“Peach would totally lay into you like this, Yuuri,” Guang smirked.

“Of course I would, it’s ludicrous!” Phichit added, shaking his head for emphasis.

_[Pappu has made Shanti believe that Om is a very big movie star in Southern India and staged a fake movie shoot of Om’s next ‘movie’ with the help of all the other junior artists who make it look like a real movie set. Shanti shows up to watch, and Pappu keeps popping up by her side in different outfits, praising Om and what a gifted actor he is, all to impress Shanti.]_

“See? Best sidekick ever since Phichit Chulanont!” Phichit said.

Yuuri smiled fondly at Phichit, well aware that Victor was watching him, though he didn’t dare turn his head.

_[Lunch break is over and all the junior artists rush back to their real jobs. Om apologises to Shanti for putting on a show and admits he is just a junior artist. Shanti replies that he jumped in the fire for her and that this makes him a hero. And that she will be happy to do anything for him, safe jump in the fire. Om asks her for a date. With Pappu’s help, they have a magical date on a movie set, among props. They have dinner under an artificial moon and in front of painted city lights, which move because Pappu works the projector. They dance in an enchanted forest, among fake snowflakes that Pappu keeps throwing in front of a fan so that they ‘snow’ down on them.]_

“They totally are like you and Phichit! You _cannot_ tell me you guys would not do something like this for each other!” Victor stated. Yuuri blushed, while Phichit proudly punched the air with his fist.

_[Om is blissfully happy at the end of the date. Shanti tells him she hasn’t been this happy in a long time and asks him if he never gets sad. Om says no, and if he does, he just watches her movies because the films of the one the whole world loves make him happy. Shanti looks sad and says that sometimes the love of the whole world is not enough when you are wishing for the love of one person. Om tells her that she deserves this love and happiness, and that she should just reach out and demand that happiness she deserves, and then that one person’s love will be hers.]_

Yuuri watched Victor, wondering what was going on in his head. He was looking at the TV screen a little forlornly, absentmindedly petting the dogs that were in his lap like they always were.

When Yuuri finally turned his eyes back on the movie, repressing a sigh, he noticed Victor turn his head to look at him from the corner of his eye. Somehow that made him blush and hold on tighter to the sofa cushion.

_[Shanti ignores Om some days later when they meet on set. She’s looking at a magazine and walks right past him. Om follows her onto another set he’s not allowed on and hides in a room full of unused props from the security guards. Through an air ventilation opening in the wall for, he hears Shanti and Mukesh’s voices. They are arguing in Shanti’s dressing room. Om climbs onto a cabinet among the props and watches through the openings how Shanti reproaches Mukesh about that magazine article that claims his impending marriage to another woman. She tells him he cannot get married to anyone as he is already married to her, Shanti. Mukesh gets frantic, telling her to shut up because their marriage is a secret. A shell-shocked Om has to witness Shanti quoting his words back to Mukesh, demanding that happiness she deserves from him, demanding his love she is entitled to as his wife. Mukesh tells her to wait another couple of months and she says that she can’t because she is pregnant with his child and in another couple of months it will be too late to keep it a secret. Mukesh is overjoyed at the news. In his hiding place, Om’s whole world collapses.]_

“Sorry.” Yuuri leaned over to Victor, looking remorseful. “This is the only really bad heartbreak moment, I promise.

Victor smiled. “It’s okay, Yuuri. I’ll live.”

_[Mukesh presents Shanti with the set of their newest movie, ‘Om Shanti Om’. In a grand hall looking like a European castle with red painted doors and gold-decorated landings and an opulent staircase he paints a vivid picture for her of the champagne fountain they will have under the massive chandelier. He says when the movie is done they will have a huge party as their wedding reception in this very place. Shanti is happy. Om chances upon them, hiding behind one of the many curtains as he has to listen again to Shanti’s married bliss with Mukesh. Heartbroken, he leaves, unseen.]_

“Okay, this is _really_ the last time now,” Yuuri insisted. Victor only laughed.

_[Mukesh shows his true face now. He accuses Shanti of ruining his life and his career because she insists on wanting to show her stupid red bridal mark to the whole world. He admits that he poured gasoline all over the place and walks towards the door, turning around to flick his ever present lighter and throwing it on the ground. He locks the door to the building as the gasoline catches fire, leaving Shanti in there to die. Om realises what’s happening and comes back to try and save Shanti from the burning movie set, but Mukesh has ordered two guards to make sure nobody lets Shanti out. Om gets brutally beaten by Mukesh’s thugs but he still manages to get back into the building. Before he can get to Shanti though, the recoil of an explosion hurls Om out of the building and onto a nearby street where he gets hit by a suddenly approaching car. He has been run over by movie star Rajesh Kapoor who was rushing his wife to hospital because she is in labour. She is delivered of a healthy baby boy. Om Prakash dies that night from his injuries.]_

Everyone was quietly snivelling into their tissues, food and drink forgotten.

_[The film cuts to 30 years into the future. Outside the villa of movie star Rajesh Kapoor, hundreds of fans have gathered wanting to catch a glimpse of his son, Bollywood’s reigning superstar on his 30th birthday. His face isn’t shown at first but in a voice-over one can hear Om Prakash telling Pappu of all the things he will have once be becomes a superstar. All these things are seen now on the screen. When he appears to his fans on the balcony, his face is still not revealed, but when he waves, his wrist shows the faint scars of a Sanskrit ‘Om’ symbol. His face is slowly revealed, and it’s Om, reincarnated as movie superstar Om Kapoor.]_

Their sudden loud cheers upset the two smaller dogs, who hopped off Victor’s lap and sought comfort by Makkachin’s side. Victor pouted. Yuuri snickered.

_[Modern day Om, who is nicknamed OK, is a spoilt brat and every inch an arrogant movie star who treats his secretary in a condescending manner, shows up late on set and makes last minute changes to the script if he doesn’t like it. He is currently filming a part as a severely disabled man and makes no secret of the fact that he only accepted this part to please the critics. At his insistence, an item song is added to the movie, as a dream sequence because the man in the movie cannot walk or see or hear, leave alone dance.]_

“Now Peach, please stay seated!” Yuuri said.

“I can’t, Yuuri you know what this song does to me!” Phichit jumped up and danced.

Leo and Guang Hong started throwing Indian rice crackers and spiced vermicelli noodles from a small bowl on the table at him. Yuuri threw his sofa cushion. Phichit caught it and threw it back.

Meanwhile Victor was laughing hysterically at all the porn-ish fan service moments in the song, especially when the actor stood in front of a fake waterfall in an unbuttoned white shirt and low riding jeans and a gush of water hit him from the side.

“I’m sorry,” he told Yuuri, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes. “This is so ridiculous.”

“I know.” Yuuri laughed too. “It’s the same director as the diamond heist movie. She loves to put in overacted shit like this for laughs.”

_[Om’s secretary has tried to fulfil Om’s order to find a really special set for his next movie, and they drive up to the abandoned, burnt down set of ‘Om Shanti Om’. Om gets a weird feeling as the car pulls up, scolding his secretary for thinking a haunted set of a movie that never got made and whose heroine disappeared without a trace would please him in any way. The building gives Om weird flashbacks of a previous life, and as he enters an abandoned room he suddenly finds himself in Shanti’s dressing room 30 years ago, walking in on a shadowy Shanti and Mukesh and their fight. As he looks up at the ventilation opening, he sees Om Prakash witnessing the argument with tears in his eyes. Om is left stunned.]_

“Please tell me this is going to tone down his arrogant arsehole behaviour a little,” Victor murmured to Yuuri.

Yuuri just gave him a knowing smile.

_[In an award show Om is nominated twice in the Best Actor category. The nominations are presented in a hilarious way - both of Om’s movies are basically the same clip, him trowing the sleeve of a jumper around his neck over-dramatically in front of a screen showing the Swiss alps, before he turns on a girl who flicks her hair and runs towards him in slow motion, the same song playing both times, and him saying “Rahul. You must have heard my name.” both times. Only the girls and the colours of the outfits are different. The movie titles make fun of two actual Bollywood movies.]_

Victor laughed out loud again. “Even _I_ have heard that name!”

“He played guys named Rahul in so many of his early movies and they all looked like this,” Leo said. “I love how the director isn’t scared of showing up that whole Bollywood industry a little.”

_[As Om goes up to accept his award he is suddenly overcome by another flashback - the night Pappu presented him with the bottle award. He hears the very words he said that night to Pappu like from very far away and repeats them now as his acceptance speech. At another end of the city in front of his TV screen, an aged Pappu lowers the glass he was about the drink from and looks at the screen, calling Om by the nickname he used for him 30 years ago.]_

Yuuri pretended not to notice how Victor reached quietly for the tissues.

Guang Hong and Phichit got up to dance to the song played at the after party of the award show, which was filmed to show lots of Bollywood actors and actresses coming to the party and dance with Om.

“Yuuuuri!” Victor turned on him. “You’re not dancing.”

“Nope. Certainly not.” Yuuri crawled further back into the sofa corner if that was even possible. “Not enough drink in me tonight.”

Victor offered him his beer with a pleading smile, but Yuuri just laughed it off.

Pouting, Victor concentrated back on the movie, commenting when he recognised some of the actors.

“Oh! It’s Anjali! She’s still gorgeous!”

Phichit and Guang Hong stopped dancing before the end of the song, sitting down again, out of breath.

“Please tell me the four of you have done this!” Victor pointed at the screen where Om was dancing with three guys now, the four of them looking like best buddies. They were currently dancing in on top of a bar, taking their jackets off and swinging them around in circles over their heads. “Taken your jackets off while dancing on the bar!”

Coughs and non-committal sounds answered him. Nobody dared meet his eye.

Victor threw himself back in the armchair, laughing.

_[Mukesh shows up at the end of the song, his dramatic music theme tied into the song. His hair has turned grey over the past 30 years and he is wearing glasses now. Om recognises him and is horrified, remembering the night that Mukesh left Shanti to die. Later that night Om sneaks into the house he used to live in in his previous life. In a replay of the earlier scene, Om’s mother is awake and tells him she was waiting for him, wanting to know what took him so long. Om is moved to tears as he teases her as he used to to about her ‘filmi dramatics’ and reassures her that he’ll always come home to her. She says she always knew that OK was her son, her Om. Pappu suddenly stands in the door and they have a tearful reunion, teasing each other about Pappu getting old and how he always told Om to change his name to Kapoor in order to become a superstar.]_

Once again, everyone was snivelling quietly into their tissues.

_[Humbled by the memories of this previous life, Om wants to become a better person and a better actor. He really makes an effort for the part of the disabled man now and arrives on set on time. Together with Pappu and his mother, Om plans to get revenge on Mukesh and to get him to admit Shanti’s murder. Mukesh has spent the past 30 years in Hollywood but now plans to return to India and make a movie with Om. Om does a casting to find an actress like Shanti. None of the girls are any good, until a clumsy young woman named Sandy shows up who is a big fan of Om’s. She is played by the same actress as Shanti.]_

“Is she also reincarnated?” Victor asked Yuuri.

Yuuri shook his head. “She’s just meant to look like Shanti.”

_[Sandy is a bubbly girl who faints every time Om looks at her closely and doesn’t take the whole thing serious. Eventually Om loses his patience in front of everyone and says Sandy will never be able to impersonate Shanti because she is simply too stupid and lacks all the qualities Shanti had. Sandy runs off crying and Pappu convinces Om that in order to get Sandy’s whole dedication, they will need to tell her the whole truth. Om tells Sandy the whole story, saying she probably won’t believe him. Sandy says she believes him when he flies on screen and fights off fifty villains at once - of course she believes him now. Next time she gets her clothes, hair and make-up done like Shanti, she is perfect.]_

“There you are, darling,” Victor said, smitten.

Yuuri watched him from the corner of his eye, repressing another sigh because he wouldn’t have been able to say if it was for Victor or the actress on screen.

_[Mukesh is spooked by the appearances of Shanti and by Om’s script that retells exactly what happened between him and Shanti all those years ago. Mukesh knows no-one but him and Shanti can know what really happened and slowly begins to lose his nerve. He begins to suspect that Om might have hired a Shanti doppelgänger. At the music launch for the movie, Om presents a song the retells his own story of the junior artist in love with the movie star as well as the story of how Mukesh betrayed Shanti and left her to die in the building while he witnessed everything. Sandy makes another appearance as Shanti. In pursuit of her Mukesh sees her bleeding from a cut on her arm, which confirms to him there is no ghost.]_

“No!” Victor gasped. “That bastard!”

_[The huge chandelier suddenly drops down from the ceiling. It knocks Mukesh to the ground and keeps swinging by just one loose cable or two. All the people flee, only Om is there now with Mukesh. Om starts telling him all the things he told Shanti, about the champagne fountain and the wedding reception, just before Mukesh set the building on fire. Mukesh doesn’t believe that Om was present that day, he doesn’t believe in reincarnation. In an observation room, Pappu and Om’s secretary watch the scene. When they hear that Mukesh knows about their plan, they want to stop Sandy from going back there but the door is jammed and they cannot get out.]_

Yuuri couldn’t help watching Victor, smirking quietly to himself when he saw Victor on the edge of his seat, eyes glued to the screen.

_[Sandy appears and starts talking to Mukesh. Fearing for her safety, Om tries to stop her but she keeps on talking, telling Mukesh that she was still alive when he came back after the fire died down. That Mukesh buried her alive and that they will find her body under the chandelier. Mukesh gets frantic and pulls a gun. A fright breaks out between Om and Mukesh, Om wanting to keep Sandy safe at all costs. Fighting, they knock over a candelabra and the curtains catch fire. Om is able to get hold of the gun.]_

“Look at him stepping out of the fire with that gun like a true fucking king!” Phichit punched both fists in the air and high-fived Leo.

_[Om shoots Mukesh in the kneecap to prevent him from attacking Sandy with a burning candelabra. Sandy stops him from killing Mukesh. She says Mukesh is going to die to pay for his sins, but not by Om’s hands. She looks up at the ceiling, and the loosened chandelier comes crashing down and buries Mukesh under it. The door bursts open and Pappu comes running in with Om’s secretary - and Sandy. Om does a double take when he sees Sandy. Shocked, he looks back at the woman on the other side of the chandelier.]_

“Oh!” Victor sounded choked, clutching his heart with one hand. “OH! She’s Shanti!”

He gratefully accepted the tissues.

“Oh, look at them!” He pointed at the screen. “The way they look at each other! Just like in that other movie!”

Yuuri reached for the tissue box and caught Guang Hong smiling at him and wriggling his eyebrows knowingly. Yuuri gave him an embarrassed smile. He should have known that Guang Hong wouldn’t miss one moment of him watching Victor instead of the movie.

_[Sandy apologises to Om for not making it in time. Om assures her it’s okay. He hugs her and places a kiss on her forehead. Across the chandelier and the sparks still flying from it, Om and Shanti look at each other with tears running down their faces, a look full of love, yearning and sadness. They smile at each other across the dropped chandelier. Then Shanti turns around and runs up the stairs, where she disappears in the moonlight, her spirit finally able to rest.]_

“Oh!” Victor said again, leaning back in the armchair with a deep sigh. “That was beautiful.”

Yeah, Yuuri thought, though he was probably thinking of something completely different.

Later when he saw Victor off by the door he stopped him just as Victor was about to speak.

“What did we just learn from the movie, Victor?” He winked. “There’s a rule to friendship. No sorry…”

“No thank you.” Victor smiled.

The hug came easier this time, a hint of clean sweat and warm skin mixed into what Yuuri knew would keep his mind reeling still hours after Victor had gone home.

“See you tomorrow in the park, Yuuri,” Victor reminded him as he headed for the lift with Makka by his side.

“How could I forget the kids’ play date?” Yuuri replied and closed the door after a quiet „Goodnight“.

The moment he was alone, he burst into the biggest, giddiest smile ever, all the repressed feelings of this whole week finally breaking free.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“I’m out.”

Victor took a healthy gulp of gin & tonic, placed his glass on the bar like a statement and looked Chris straight in the eye. They had just arrived in the club and were on their first drink. It wasn’t too crowded yet, and he could see the elevated dance floor that seemed almost like a stage with a runway. Video walls were erected around the dance floor, the display alternating between videoclips matching the songs that were played or visualisations like waves, stars or colours exploding in time with the beat. The area under the runway and at the foot of the dance floor was smaller and flanked by pillars to the sides which provided in the spaces between them a very small number of exclusive niches that each had a table and a curved sofa. All of them were of course occupied, there were just too few of them. The bar stretched along the whole wall opposite the dance floor. Yuuri had texted him earlier that he was location scouting for their annual Christmas party with Phichit and that they had heard great things about this club, but currently neither Yuuri nor Phichit were to be seen. Victor had seen Yuuri’s text quite late while he was still at work, and as he had been in a meeting with Chris, he had simply dragged Chris along.

“Out of what?” Chris seemed unfazed, looking at Victor over the rim of his champagne glass.

It had been a while since they had been out together, with Chris travelling a lot as summer passed and seeped into September. A couple of new prospective partnerships had opened in the Middle East, but negotiations were tedious, including those with the Leroys in Canada. Only half an hour ago while they were still pondering over their pending projects, Chris had voiced very loudly and very passionately just where exactly Leroy could stick his fucking maple trees if they didn’t come to an agreement soon. The current estimated closing date was December.

“The bet,” Victor said, “I’m out. I’m calling it off.”

“Oh _mon cher_ , you seem to have developed a passion for calling things off.” Chris smirked.

“I mean it, Chris. I forgot about it most of the time anyway, and every effort I made led to nothing because you are a stubborn bastard with very terrible taste in men. And I like my own car. Makka would be highly uncomfortable in a sports car.”

Chris reached for something in his pocket and dangled the Jaguar key in front of Victor’s face temptingly. “You sure?”

“Absolutely.” Victor turned away from Chris to face the bar and waved his empty glass at the bar tender for another. “I don’t care about it anymore.”

It took a few minutes until he heard a soft „You _like_ him, Victor“ beside him. He remained turned to the bar, muttering thanks to the barkeeper when a new high glass of sparkling gin tonic was placed before him.

“Chris.”

“Victor.”

“I need my friend now, not my boss.”

He saw movement from the corner of his eye and looked over to find Chris remove his tie and stuff it in his pocket before he shrugged the suit jacket off and folded it over the bar stool to his right. He turned around on the bar stool too so that he was sitting next to Victor, shoulder to shoulder, knee to knee. Heads close so they were able to talk even over the music.

“I’m all yours, _mon cher_.”

“Thank you.”

“Your boss is a bit of a cocky arsehole anyway.”

“I couldn’t have said it better myself.”

Smiling, they brought their glasses together in a toast and drank.

“Are you going to tell him?” Chris asked as he caught a droplet of water from the sweating bottom of his glass. “About the bet?”

“You wouldn’t if you were in my shoes,” Victor stated instead of a reply.

“I wouldn’t, no. I don’t think it’s a very good starting point for a relationship. But you, _mon cher_ … I know you. It would be lurking at the back of your mind, eating at you. You’ve always been honest in relationships. You broke it off with Bella because of him, didn’t you? Without hope and without reason. You already couldn’t bear to be with Bella when your mind alone is on someone else.”

Victor waited one well timed, tactical moment long.

“Yuuri kissed me, and Bella fell in love with someone else.”

Chris spat out the mouthful of champagne he had just drunk.

Victor couldn’t help it, he had to laugh.

“Come again?” Chris croaked.

Victor patted him on the back.

“Yuuri... no. _We_ kissed, at the summer party, and I was…” Victor sighed.

“I can see that you are.” Beside him, Chris smiled. “I haven’t seen you so smitten for a long, long time.”

Victor drank because he didn’t know what to say, until he found words again.

“I think it’s been building up for some time. I wanted to become his friend because of the bet but then I got to know him and I didn’t care about the bet anymore. I just wanted to be around him. He loves Makka, and I adore his dog too, and his friends, and how he makes me laugh and feeds me, and how we talk about things and how comfortably silent we can be with each other.”

“Is it mutual?” Chris was looking at him fondly, elbow propped up on the bar, chin resting in his hand.

Victor shrugged. “There’s definitely been some tension for some time, but he never… came on to me or anything. It’s like he knew about Bella, way before the summer party. Like he knew or was at least convinced I wasn’t free. I tried not to give him the wrong signals but I’m not sure I was that successful.”

He thought about that changing room in Milan and decided not to tell Chris about that particular moment for fear his friend could ruin this with just a few well-placed words.

“You’re a very blunt and affectionate person, _mon cher_ , if you came on a little too strong and he knows you at all, I’m sure he wouldn’t have misunderstood. A kiss though…”

Victor smiled bittersweetly at the memory. “We danced, at the summer party, and at the end of the night we kissed and it was so fucking romantic. I didn’t want to go home without him, Chris. I called it off with Bella the next morning. I didn’t know there was someone else in the picture though, she only told me afterwards. Can you believe we were unhappily engaged for months? She was relieved, Chris! She’d been terrified of telling me because Yakov and her father’s high hopes for this union and because she didn’t want to hurt my feelings!”

Victor decided not to tell Chris about who exactly Isabella’s new love interest was; he wouldn’t put it past Chris to rope Isabella into trying to hurry things along with the Leroys, and he didn’t want her to have another relationship in which business relations put such high expectations on her.

“I tried, Chris. I tried so many things to make it work again, dates, gifts…” He stirred the straw in his glass, setting the ice cubes clanking against each other and the glass.

“You would. That’s you, Victor.” Chris waved his empty glass at the bartender, and just a moment later a new one appeared in front of him.

“Now I know that it was all for nothing because Bella was already in a different place, emotionally, I couldn’t even reach her anymore. I even went through that stupid urologist appointment. Most embarrassing moments of my life!”

Chris winced in sympathy.

“While she was in Canada and I started spending time with Yuuri… I felt I was able to breathe again. I had fun. I hadn’t felt like that for the longest time.”

“Not even with _me_?” Chris placed one hand on his heart, acting wounded.

“Ass.” Victor chuckled and gave him a friendly shove.

“VI-KU-TO-RUUU!!!”

Both Victor and Chris’ heads whipped around at the shout somewhere behind them.

And then Victor did a double take.

Yuuri was standing on the stairs that led from the dance floor down to the free space and up again to the bar.

“Come here! Dance with me!” Yuuri grinned across the room with sparkling eyes. And he was wearing… Victor gulped. He was wearing the outfit that had already had Victor staring in that dressing room in Milan.

When Victor made no move to follow Yuuri’s request, Yuuri started walking down the stairs and towards him like a man on a mission.

“Oh shit…” Victor breathed.

“Oh, it’s very mutual,” Chris murmured right into his ear.

“I… need to finish my drink first,” Victor said weakly when Yuuri stood in front of him.

Yuuri reached around him for the glass on the bar and drank up the remaining gin & tonic in one go, eyes firmly on Victor as his lips closed around the straw.

“It’s finished,” he announced and replaced the empty glass on the bar. “You can dance with me now.”

He leaned in close and his smile was nothing if not predatory as he grabbed Victor’s tie and pulled on it until Victor slid off the bar stool by the force. Yuuri let the tie slide through his fingers to give some leeway but then he gripped the lower end tight once more as he turned around, casting a sultry glance back over his shoulder at Victor who let himself be led to the dance floor by his tie, knowing he would have gladly followed Yuuri to the ends of the world. 

Somewhere in his back, Victor heard Chris’ deep laughter follow him all the way to the dance floor.

“Yuuri, what are you doing?”

Victor had to lean in close and yell and still could only hope that Yuuri would hear him over the throbbing dance tune pounding deafeningly loud through the speakers up here on the dance floor.

Yuuri just smiled more of that smile that had Victor’s insides turning into mush and longing, and placed Victor’s arms around his waist, sliding his body close along the whole length of Victor’s, and Victor swore he could feel every single breath Yuuri took, they were so close. Yuuri looked at him so intensely like he wanted him to understand the message of the song very clearly.

_When my insides are wracked with anxiety you have the touch that will quiet me… I turn to you like a flower leaning toward the sun... I turn to you ‘cause you’re the only one who can turn me around when I’m upside down_

Light changed to dark changed to light in quick cuts as the music video to the song played around them on three giant screens, and Victor caught skies and fast moving clouds and rocks and the ocean, then the moving bodies of people dancing on and off screen, and Yuuri. Everything narrowed down to Yuuri, who was happiest smiles and fluid motion, making music with his body until he played Victor, too, like an instrument and Victor gave himself over to Yuuri and the music he brought out of the both of them. They forgot about all others and just danced, bodies often brushing, sharing heat, mouths always smiling and sometimes singing along words that suddenly seemed to be written just for them.

A new song began and they paused for a moment when they recognised it, smiles growing as wide as the distance between them shrunk with them moving their faces together until their damp foreheads touched and their eyes drowned in each other’s and their breaths brushed their faces and became as one.

_Why, why can’t this moment last forevermore_

_Tonight, tonight eternity’s an open door_

_No, don’t ever stop doing the things I do_

_Don’t go_

_In every breath I take I’m breathing you_

They very nearly kissed, then broke apart, eyes shining as they moved into the music, hands brushing hips, fingers caressing over cotton damp from sweat. Yuuri reached for Victor’s hands and laced his fingers with his. He guided their arms up beside their bodies until they met high above their heads. Held the pose for a moment and then let go, and the next thing Victor knew was Yuuri’s back against his chest as he’d spun very quickly and moved back into him, grinding his arse into Victor’s crotch for a moment with one arm raised back around Victor’s neck. It was too brief to leave Victor with more than his breath caught in his throat and the burning wish for Yuuri to do that again. And again and again and again.

_We are here,_

_We’re all alone in our universe..._

_We are free_

_Where everything’s allowed and love comes first_

_Forever and ever together_

They laughed breathlessly, the words coming to life as they moved in synch like two halves creating one whole, every nook and frazzle at their seams slotting perfectly together with a matching counterpart in the other. This Yuuri, Victor thought. This Yuuri he had in his arms on this dance floor, this Yuuri moving with and against and for him. This happy and alluring and confident and carefree and in all that completely and utterly sexy Yuuri. Victor wanted to be on his knees for him and worship, forever. He felt every beat of this song pulse acutely through his veins.

_Euphoria_

_Forever till the end of time_

_From now on only you and I_

As the song took a breather and wound down in the middle, Victor was dipping Yuuri slightly, holding on to him with one arm firmly around his waist, the other securely on his back, Yuuri’s hands gripping Victor’s biceps tight, the warmth of his touch seeping through Victor’s shirt and skin and veins. Victor lowered his face towards Yuuri’s. A waft of dry ice ice floated across the dance floor at this moment, the dance floor lit brightly from below as moving laser beams caressed Yuuri’s face with light blue longing that echoed in Victor’s face and heart. Their chests rose and fell to the same rhythm. Time might as well have stopped as their smiles froze and lips lingered just a hair’s width from each other, the haunting voice from the speaker weaving them closer and closer together with her promise of forever and infinity _,_ of divinity and euphoria forever till the end of time.

_Euphoria_

_An everlasting piece of art_

_A beating love within my heart_

The song picked up again and Victor’s heartbeat with it as he brought them both upright again. This was euphoria alright, seeing everything he’d ever been and wanted reflected back at him from Yuuri’s smile and sparkling eyes. As it ended on a final one of its trademark staccato repetition of “we’re going up-up-up-up” they ended up face to face, hands on waists, panting. Victor felt as drained and as high on adrenaline as he normally did after a good workout. His dress shirt was clinging to his back, his tie threatening to choke him. As if he could read his mind, Yuuri reached for his tie and loosened it until it hung as a long piece of silk around his neck, ends coming down his shirt.

The next song made Victor laugh a little helplessly while Yuuri’s eyes lit up even more behind his glasses if that was at all possible. A female voice began to sing, slow and mesmerising, and Victor mouthed “No” at Yuuri because then the beat kicked in and it was definitely some Indian song and as much as it pained him and as pleading as Yuuri’s puppy eyes were, this was definitely not happening.

“I need water!” Victor announced very close to Yuuri’s ear so he would hear him over the music, and the look Yuuri gave him was something between a pout and a tease because he knew very well that Victor was chickening out.

As Victor made his way down the stairs Phichit dashed past him in the opposite direction, waving briefly in passing before he joined Yuuri on the dance floor.

Chris was not in his seat by the bar, the bartender keeping an eye on their things. Victor ordered the largest water they had and turned around on his seat with the glass in his hand. The stainless steel front made him wince momentarily as the cold hit the small of his back when he leaned back against the bar to watch the people on the dance floor. What he had thought was an unexpected Bollywood number in a place such as this was actually more of a hip-hop interspersed remix, and the video playing on the screen showed scenes from a movie that seemed somewhat familiar. Victor was sure he had seen that bank robbery starring Clive Owen at some point. It was obviously not that unknown a song; the dance floor was packed. Yuuri and Phichit were having an absolute blast up there, especially during the hip hop parts that they seemed to know off by heart. They were more goofing around than dancing, and Victor was glad, not only because he loved watching them having fun but also because he was sure he couldn’t have handled it to see Yuuri do actual Bollywood dancing. Those hips and thighs and especially this butt in those clinging black pants were already almost more than he could handle.

When the song ended he smiled into his glass as he saw Yuuri and Phichit stick their heads together and talkagitatedly like over-excited children before they ran down the stairs and up the other side of the bar where Victor had seen the DJ earlier. They were actually giggling. Laughing softly, Victor shook his head. Chris walked back up to the bar at this moment, looking somewhat broody and melancholy, though as he approached Victor and slid back into his seat beside him, his expression was smug.

Victor raised one hand as Chris opened his mouth to speak.

“Not a word, Chris!” he said pointedly.

“But—“ Chris tried nevertheless but Victor cut him with just one raised eyebrow.

“Fine,” Chris murmured smoothly under his breath. He ordered another glass of champagne, his face every bit that content front of a man who knew that he would to tease the shit as well as the truth out of his best friend sooner or later.

Yuuri and Phichit came back down the stairs to their right, and while Phichit disappeared out of sight in the crowd very quickly, Yuuri stood at the foot of the stairs for a moment until he had spotted Victor by the bar and his face lit up like someone had switched on the Christmas lights on Oxford Street.

He came running up so fast that Victor had to quickly put down his glass and catch him as Yuuri bumped into him, giggling as his stomach collided with Victor’s legs and Victor held him steady with both hands, chuckling about his enthusiasm.

“Vikutoruuu! Did I tell you I took Bollywood dancing classes?” Yuuri’s eyes sparkled like Christmas lights too.

“You did, my darling.” Victor smiled as he handed Yuuri his glass, urging him to drink.

Yuuri thirstily gulped down most of the water in Victor’s glass and put it back on the bar, and Victor felt very weak with the wish to kiss away a few drops of water that were pearling over Yuuri’s plush lips.

“Peach and I are doing one of our performances!” Yuuri announced, a little breathless.

Victor’s heart positively stopped. “I... don’t think this is a good idea...” he voiced carefully.

“Yes, it is, it’s a great idea! They have our song and even the video, and that stage, it’s perfect!”

“That’s… not what I’m worried about, Yuuri,” Victor said weakly. He didn’t know if this was the right moment to bring up that he didn’t want to go into cardiac arrest before he’d had a chance to at least spend one night together with Yuuri, or at least kiss him again.

Yuuri took off his glasses, folded the temples inward and handed them to Victor. “You’ll take care of these for me, will you?” He smiled at Victor with so much trust as if he had handed him Vicchan.

Phichit rushed past them then, calling out “Come _on_ , Yuuri!” half over his shoulder as he headed up to the dance floor.

Yuuri was buzzing with excitement as he beamed at Victor.

“Watch me, Victor! Don’t ever take your eyes off me!” he commanded before he turned and followed Phichit.

„Never,” Victor whispered to no-one in particular.

An announcement from the DJ came from the speakers asking everyone to please clear the dance floor because they were being treated to a special performance. The people filed away to the sides or the stairs. Suddenly the lights were turned off, both above and underneath, leaving the dance floor completely in darkness.

Victor swallowed hard. His heart was galloping wildly in his chest, and he reached blindly behind himself to put Yuuri’s glasses on the top of the bar before he accidentally crushed them in his hands from sheer nerves.

A single spotlight was switched on, dipping a lone figure in the front right corner of the dance floor into green light. Phichit, Victor saw, with his back to the audience. Music started slowly, a brief _shehnai_ intro before the beat kicked in an and Phichit started moving to it, stomping one foot and rocking his hips. Victor had about ten seconds to remember that a Bollywood item number nearly always featured a man and a woman, so if Phichit was very obviously doing the male part, then where was... oh.

Right.

A second spotlight came on, this one poised on the left side of the stage. Cheers and whistles were heard, a sensual quick melody laid over the beat, and Victor’s mouth became very dry. Yuuri had his back to the audience too, arms stretched out by his sides, and Victor’s hand flew to his mouth because for several seconds on end one saw nothing but the rhythmic sway of perfectly curved hips and the most delectable arse Victor had ever wanted to get his hands on. Yuuri turned around, throwing a sultry glance into the audience and the vague direction of the bar. At least Victor hoped so.

The light was dimmed on Yuuri’s side again and Phichit started a routine to the first verse in the centre of the dance floor, to much cheer from the crowd. The video screen behind him came to life, though not the ones on the sides, projecting the song as it was used in the movie it came from. It worked surprisingly well, almost providing Phichit and Yuuri with their own virtual set of background dancers. Yuuri took centre stage for the second verse. Victor was sure the woman on the screen in the original video was very beautiful and sexy and all that, but she failed to detract his attention from Yuuri for even one second.

“Is _that_... Chulanont??? From our newsroom?”

The voice from his left surprised Victor. He had completely forgotten about Chris.

Bollywood sure had come a long way since he had watched Rishi Kapoor bouncing through Swiss meadows with his _babushka_. This was fast, modern, and the routine might have doubled as workout. There was none of the sappy star-crossed lover pining, this was pure show. And every time Phichit and Yuuri had to do one of the very few couple routines, they would laugh themselves silly while doing the moves perfectly, radiating the comfortable ease of two people very close who had never felt the slightest bit of attraction to each other.

“Can I change my mind about that bet of ours?” Chris asked when Phichit moved out of the spotlight once again with a fluent turn of the hips that he followed with his upper body, shoulder and outstretched arm and Yuuri stepped up.

“No!” Victor whipped his head round and shot him a very quick death glare. “It’s _off_!”

Yuuri’s moves were all flowing hip undulations with his legs turned out in a wider stance and slightly bent in the knees, arms following a quick choreography bending above his shoulders and his head, holding the tension all the way into his fingertips. Once he brought his arms together over his head with his wrists crossed briefly so that Victor gulped. Every time Yuuri raised his arms his shirt rode high over his hips, exposing a slightly soft stomach with just the right amount of chub. The sight had Victor tickled with excitement, and he made a mental note to pay special attention to that first chance he got.

Phichit and Yuuri moved down the runway side by side in synchronised steps and arm moves, laughing when the people who had gathered around the dance floor and below were cheering for them. The both of them were all smiles and concentration, clearly having a hell of a lot of fun. The screen behind them showed that the original choreography included lifts that they would have needed more people for, but they tided those moments over with their own choreography. Phichit, too, had Victor’s jaw dropping several times with the kicks and half jumps he did. He went down on one knee for some dance moves that had Victor wincing inwardly and his own knees weeping with sympathy. And whoever would have thought that Phichit Chulanont had this ‘I own this goddamn place and all you fucking bitches!’ swagger in him?!

They ended the number in the middle of the front stage, Phichit spinning Yuuri in to his waist until Yuuri stood with his back towards him, one of Phichit’s hands on Yuuri’s wait, both in the same position looking up towards the top right ceiling with their right arms pointing in the same direction. The crowd went wild around them, clapping and cheering and whistling, and Yuuri and Phichit turned at each other and fell into each other’s arm, laughing and hugging so wildly that they nearly brought each other to fall.

Victor turned around on his bar seat, elbows sinking on the counter, looking every inch like he’d been run over by a train. He heard Chris’ low chuckle beside him but he didn’t have it in him to say something now.

“You alright, man?” the bartender asked.

Victor gave a short hysterical laugh. He would never be alright again in his life.

A glass of gin & tonic appeared in front of him, and he nodded in silent gratitude. He drank greedily, downing half the glass in a couple of sips from the straw.

Music started coming from the speakers again, and Victor turned around again to scan the crowd, wondering where Yuuri was. His eyes narrowed. Yuuri and Phichit were surrounded on the dance floor, men and women alike flocking around them, probably complimenting them on their performance. Someone was handing them drinks, and before Phichit could stop him Yuuri had downed what looked like a double whiskey.

“So much thirst,” Chris chuckled.

Victor shook his head at his friend.

Some guy with long blonde hair was standing way too close to Yuuri in Victor’s opinion. Yuuri looked over the crowd and Victor’s insides clenched when their eyes met. More drinks appeared in the group and Yuuri had a bottle of beer in his hand now. Too polite to say no, perhaps, Victor wondered, watching closely for any signs of Yuuri being uncomfortable. But he seemed fine, giddy, most likely pumped with adrenaline from his dance. Much to Victor’s dismay the group moved on to the dance floor. The blond guy danced up to Yuuri, and Victor caught Yuuri looking at him over the crowd with a shrug and a slightly embarrassed smile, as if to say ‘I’m sorry, what was I supposed to do?’ But his eyes sparkled with mischief, even from this distance.

“I think it’s high time you claimed what’s yours, _mon cher_ , before that idiot there does.“ Chris smiled.

Victor slid off his bar stool. Chris couldn’t possibly know that this very scenario was panning out like one of Yuuri’s favourite movie scenes. He wouldn’t put it past drunk, confident Yuuri to string that blond idiot along just for Victor to come and tell him to fuck off so that he could dance with Yuuri himself. Well, if Yuuri thoughtthat Victor had no pride and self-respect left whatsoever and would drop everything at Yuuri’s beck and call, let himself be lured on to that dance floor to send some idiot walking, then...

Then he was absolutely right!

Glass in one hand, Victor drank up the rest of his gin & tonic while he yanked down his tie that was still hanging loose around his neck with the other. Chris took both from him without a word like a faithful valet from his master at a duel at dawn.

As he made his way up the stairs to the dance floor, Victor opened the top three buttons on his shirt. A new song started, some well known French pop song. He made his way slowly through the moving bodies until he was behind blond idiot and could see Yuuri smirk over the guy’s shoulder. The beer bottle was gone from Yuuri’s hand. Victor decided not to worry about the level of Yuuri’s drunkenness just now. He had more important things to do.

Victor tapped the blond guy on the shoulder and motioned for him to bugger off with a nod of his chin and a glare from steely blue eyes. Luckily he complied without a fuss.

Yuuri was smiling at him so widely and knowingly that it knocked the air out of Victor’s chest. Victor felt his own knowing smile acutely, the confines of his face suddenly too tight for his sheer joy as he took Yuuri’s hand and pulled him towards his body in one swift movement. Their arms found their ways around each other by instinct. Victor remembered the longing on Yuuri’s face when they had watched that short scene and god, he was hoping he was doing this right. While everyone else around them was moving fast and wildly, the two of them were almost still in each other’s arms for a moment. They were moving to their own song as they held each other in their arms, their faces close together, foreheads touching, dancing cheek to cheek, deep gazes sinking into each other. And Victor was sure he could hear Yuuri sigh, and it sounded relieved and happy.

Victor couldn’t have said how many songs later that Justin Timberlake song came on. He was sure their last drink of water was much too long ago and they probably shouldn’t have had that last gin & tonic but Yuuri was too cute and too persistent at least for Victor to deny him anything. Before the intro was over they were all over each other, rewriting the book of close dancing for all Victor cared. Or not. He really didn’t care about anything but the feeling of Yuuri in his arms. Yuuri’s face, heated and perspiring, buried in the curve of his neck. Yuuri’s arms roaming over his back in a way that made him curse the layer of his cotton shirt between them. Victor nuzzled that adorable small stretch of skin just above Yuuri’s ear, below his hairline. He couldn’t resist a nip at a very pink earlobe that was possibly glowing, and he heard a quiet moan from Yuuri against his ear. Yuuri moved back a little in his arms and they stopped moving completely as they looked into each other’s eyes.

_Keep your eyes on me, baby, keep your eyes on me... 'Cause I don't wanna lose you now, I'm looking right at the other half of me..._

The lyrics were strangely fitting and they both had to laugh, suddenly reminded of Yuuri’s earlier words, and then they became serious just as quickly. Victor was holding Yuuri so close he couldn’t only feel him breathing, he was absolutely sure he could also feel his heart beating. One of his hands came up to Yuuri’s face and Yuuri cradled his cheek in it. It did nothing to make Victor feel any less weak in the knees and curse himself for not reigning in their drinking sooner. Yuuri looked at him like he trusted him with his life.

The song blended into another slow number and Yuuri buried his face against his neck once again. Sighing, Victor ran one hand through Yuuri’s hair, pushing his head closer in doing so. Yuuri seemed to feel right at home there, and Victor closed his eyes and gave himself over to the slow dance moves, his face in Yuuri’s hair, breathing him in. His other hand was still on the small of Yuuri’s back. He couldn’t have said what made him do it other than the bliss of having Yuuri so close but he found his fingers playing with the hem of Yuuri’s shirt. He remembered picking out this shirt for Yuuri in Milan. Had he always had this at the back of his mind, subconsciously, that one day he might be able to do this? Brush his fingertips light as a feather over the skin exposed if this shirt rode just a little high over Yuuri’s hips?

_...you undo me and move me in ways undefined and you’re all I see and you’re all I need… baby, I’m too lost in you, caught in you, lost in everything about you, so deep..._

Again, he felt caught out by song. He felt Yuuri shudder against him. Bolder, Victor slipped his fingers under the back of Yuuri’s shirt. Yuuri kissed the pale column of Victor’s throat. Victor caressed Yuuri’s warm skin under his shirt. Yuuri licked into the hollow of Victor’s collarbone. Victor let his hand wander lower and copped a feel of that perfect arse he had been dreaming about since that moment in the dressing room in Milan when Yuuri stepped out in this very outfit. Yuuri moaned against his ear and ground his crotch into Victor’s.

And Victor took the deepest breath he could find in himself and squeezed his eyes shut with the exhaustion of summoning all his willpower so that he wouldn’t let his body and primal instincts take over and fuck Yuuri against the nearest wall. It was painful. The way they needed each other. 

And Victor made a decision.

Phichit was exhausted. He was so getting the Tiger a fake a ID. What good was an intern when he couldn’t have him here tonight in his hour of need? He’d had to bribe not one but two of the bar men, one to film Victor’s reactions during their Bollywood performance with his phone while the other filmed their performance with Yuuri’s phone.

He still thought he could feel the whiskey he’d downed burning in his stomach.

When he saw Victor make his way over to him through the dancing bodies with Yuuri’s hand firmly in his, he reckoned his Yuuri Watch for tonight was over and prepared himself to wave the two of them off into their well deserved shag feast and finally have another drink of his own.

“Phichit. Please take Yuuri home.”

Phichit stared at Victor with eyes the size of saucers, eyebrows nearly hitting his hairline.

“Noooooo!” Yuuri whined, clinging onto Victor’s arm, not unlike a baby koala. “We’re not done dancing!”

“And here I thought my boy was going to get laid...” Phichit started, confused.

“Phichit, for the love of god, get him away from me!” Victor was pleading with him. Phichit was still staring. He couldn’t say he understood, but Victor clearly did _not_ want to take Yuuri home and shag him silly despite what things, no, what every-fucking-thing looked like. He could only hope Yuuri was drunk enough to not feel the rejection.

So finally Phichit nodded. Fell over his words. “O-okay. Of course.” He slid off the bar stool and reached for Yuuri’s arm.

“No!” Yuuri protested. “I want to stay with Victor!”

“Yuuri...” Victor breathed an exasperated smile into Yuuri’s hair, trying to keep the man still who was currently wriggling and grinding against him like he was trying to hide in his arms from all the world. “You’re drunk, my darling. Phichit is going to take you home.”

“ _You_ take me home, Vikutoruuuu!”

Victor winced. Shook his head, and it looked like the effort was killing him. Phichit was _fascinated_.

“I’m not taking advantage of you like that. Go home now with Phichit and I’ll come over tomorrow, okay? I’ll bring you breakfast. I’ll bring Makka too and we can go to the park with the dogs and just... spend the day together if you like.”

“I love Makka!” Yuuri sighed dreamily.

“I know. She loves you too.” Smiling, Victor pushed Yuuri’s hair back from his face. “Let Phichit take you home now.”

“You’re really, absolutely sure?” Phichit asked Victor one last time, hands on his hips and perfectly plucked eyebrows raised. Yuuri’s puppy eyes and the adorable extra syllable he drew Victor’s name out into with his Japanese accent were deadly, and Victor’s thirst was blatantly obvious. “Because if I hear either one of you whingeing about keeping you apart I’ll never let you hear the end of this!”

“Please.” Victor looked like a man in great pain. “Before I do something I’m going to regret in the morning.”

Phichit gaped. Blinked. Tried to remember when he’d last come across anyone who did not want to take advantage of a situation like this. Very briefly he wanted to cry like a proud dad but opted for grinning like a madman instead.

“I think I just fell a little in love with you, Nikiforov,” he said and gave Victor a friendly pat on the shoulder. “You’re quite possibly the best thing to happen to my boy.”

He tugged gently on Yuuri’s arm. “Let’s get you home. Say goodbye to Victor for now. You’ll see him tomorrow, okay?”

Phichit reached for his phone to call a taxi and give them a moment to say goodbye, though when he looked back up he wished he hadn’t. Idiots were hopeless! He rolled his eyes and groaned quietly when he had to watch the two share a heartbreaking and almost teary (on Yuuri’s end) goodbye. They did not hug because they had their hands entangled by their sides, fingers holding so tight that Phichit wondered whether he might need to pry them open in a moment and where he might possibly find a pair of pliers. Instead they leaned in close to kiss each other’s cheek, a little clumsy like two people who really, really want to kiss but suddenly feel very shy around each other because they feel _too_ much. Lips brushed cheeks, and Yuuri nuzzled Victor’s face for a tad longer than was necessary as they murmured breathless goodnights to each other. When Phichit cleared his throat very loudly, Victor let Yuuri go and took a step back.

“Yuuri, for crying out loud! You’re going home, not off to war!” Phichit resolutely took hold of Yuuri’s arm before he could change his mind and caved at the sappy puppy eyes they were making at each other and just sent them both home together. He said goodbye to Victor with a half-hug, suddenly overcome with affection for the man who so obviously found salvation in his best friend’s eyes, though he needed one arm free to hold on to Yuuri and stop him from attaching himself to Victor again.

Their taxi luckily pulled up outside when they stepped into the cool night air, and Phichit manoeuvred Yuuri in the back before climbing in beside him. He allowed himself to lean his head back into the seat for a moment and take a breath. It had been quite a night, and it wasn’t over for him yet, not until he got Yuuri safely into bed.

Turning his head following the drunken sigh beside him, he found Yuuri looking out the car window, still humming that Justin Timberlake song. He wasn’t seeing the city outside at all, judging from the dreamlike expression and smile on his face. His glasses were still gone; Phichit hoped they were really with Victor and Victor would remember to take them home and bring them over in the morning.

“You’re going to be so hungover tomorrow,” Phichit told him not without glee. He was almost glad he had to go on an assignment for the weekend. Hungover Yuuri could be a mortified, whining, moody bitch.

“I danced with Victor!” Yuuri beamed proudly when he turned his head.

“I saw.” Phichit smiled.

“Did we look good together? I didn’t make an ass of myself?”

“You looked amazing together. I’m so proud of you!” Phichit deliberately left out the part about where it had looked like they were going to jump each other’s bones right there on the dance floor.

“And we did your Bollywood show, Peach. That was fantastic! I’d forgotten how much fun it is.”

Oh yes, Phichit thought, especially Victor looking like he was going to drop dead from his seat watching you move your hips and ass. _That_ fun is definitely going in your wedding video!

They grinned at each other, heads rolling back against the car seat.

Half an hour later he had Yuuri in his pyjamas and snuggled up in his bed, water bottle and aspirin ready on the nightstand, emergency bucket right beside it.

“Sleep now, skunk,” Phichit chuckled, sitting on the edge of the bed. Yuuri was squirming around, trying to find a good position to sleep in that made him feel the least sick.

He looked over the blanket pulled all the way up to his chin.

“I love him. I’m in love with Victor, Peach!”

“I know.” Phichit bit his lips, trying to hold in a wide smile because it might just split his face.

Yuuri scrunched his nose in thought. “Do you think he knows?”

“Yuuri, I dare say after tonight, the whole word probably knows.”

“Oh noooooo!” Yuuri squeaked, and covered his face with both hands. But when he pulled them away a moment later, his eyes were sparkling and his smile reached from ear to ear. He looked adorably happy. Phichit laughed. He wanted to cuddle him. So he did, and tucked him in properly. He settled back with his shoulders resting against the head of Yuuri’s bed. Soothingly, he ran his fingers through Yuuri’s hair right above the one ear peeking out over the blanket, knowing he wouldn’t be able to go home until he knew drunk Yuuri safely asleep.

“Peach?” came Yuuri’s very sleepy voice again after a couple of minutes.

“Mhm?”

Silence.

Shifting under the blanket.

Then....

“Do you think Victor might like me too?” Yuuri murmured.

And was fast asleep before Phichit could even think of an answer.

Phichit looked down at his best friend’s sleeping form, the tousled-by-the-hands-of-a-lover hair sticking out from the pillow, face utterly relaxed and still smiling in his sleep.

“If you could see the way he looks at you, Yuuri...” he said softly. “You’d see the face of a man completely and utterly in love.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next week: the chapter we've aaaaaaaallllllllll been waiting for!
> 
> If anyone is interested: the song Yuuri and Phichit dance to is called "Dum Dum", from the movie 'Band Baaja Baaraat'. :)


	8. Euphoria

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Headaches, fluff, fluff, smut, smut, smut, smut, fluff, smut, smut, fluff, fluff.
> 
> So. Much. Smut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo... who's noticed that the chapter count has gone _up_?
> 
> I've had to split this chapter in two because there was so much planned that I felt I couldn't possibly put it all in here and write it in a way that would make me happy and do this story justice. It actually felt like a good decision from the moment it was made. And I don't think anyone will mind the chapter count going up? ;)
> 
> This is for everyone who's ever experienced a First Weekend. You know, a first weekend with the person you're really crushing hard on and who's crushing on you. When nothing really matters yet, when the question where this is going is not an issue yet (this is important!!). Just a first weekend together in your happy little bubble. I was lucky to experience that once, maybe twice in my life. I wish it on everyone who's never had a First Weekend yet. No matter what happens, the blissful memories will always stay.
> 
> Today for the first time I felt that this whole mess we are currently going through might wear me down. My workplace I still have to attend is not exactly safe at the moment (there's a possibility that people infected with you-know-what walk around the same stairwell, use the same lift) and it makes me really anxious and also really angry over the fact that we are not allowed to close our office. Take good care everyone and please stay safe. 💖
> 
> In that sense, I am even more glad to have split this chapter and just give them and us _this_. I think we all need a little bit of this these days. And don't anyone dare hate on Victor! He deserves First Weekend as much as anyone of us. :)
> 
> Get a glass of water and maybe some ice, it's getting hot in here. We've all been waiting for this a long time.

**8 – Euphoria**

Yuuri thought he was dreaming. It wasn’t a very nice dream, and he wished for it to go away so he could go back to the other, much nicer dream he had had before. But now there was apparently an army of little men beating the inside of his head with hammers twice their size. He was barely able to draw breath because the inside of his mouth had turned into a desert overnight, and as if that wasn’t enough this really obtrusive repetitive chime came in that finally forced him to open his eyes and greet the new day with an earth-shattering groan. The little men in his head were still at it, and while he reached blindly for the bottle of water he could make out in the drawn-curtain induced half light of his room, the annoying chime wouldn’t cease by itself. It took him another moment or two to identify it as his doorbell and decide he wasn’t expecting anyone, so he pulled the blanket back over his head. The ringing stopped, and Yuuri heaved a sigh.

The doorbell rang again, and Yuuri cursed loudly in Japanese, threw the covers off and swung his feet out of bed. He whimpered when the sudden movement made him dizzy. His head seemed to have grown overnight, because it felt way too heavy and stuffed to be balanced on just his shoulders. He cursed again when he stumbled over a plastic bucket that was standing right in front of his bed for some reason. As he reached for the door handle he remembered Victor saying he would come over, but did he really have to do so in the middle of the night?

Bright sunlight flooding his living room blinded him as he yanked the bedroom door open and realised it was probably much later than he thought it was. Vicchan was already by the door, barking and wagging his tail excitedly. Yuuri was sure the noise and light was going to split his head any moment now.

Squinting, he peered briefly out into the hall when he opened the door, said, “I’m busy dying. Go away!” and walked away from the open door.

“There’ll be no dying on my watch.” Victor came in and closed the door behind him. He took his time cooing and cuddling Vicchan first before he took off his shoes and jacket and carried a paper bag he had brought into the kitchen. Makkachin had followed Yuuri into the living room, where he sat slumped down on the couch with his face buried in his hands. She sat down on the carpet in front of him and gave a quiet boof, like she knew he couldn’t handle loud just now.

Yuuri lowered his hands to reach for Makka, a weak smile breaking his grumpy face because this was Makka and she did that to him. He ruffled the fur on her neck for a moment and leaned down to talk lowly to her in Japanese, then giggled when she licked his face, Vicchan happily doing the same with the hand Yuuri reached down to him.

He looked up when Victor came over and held out a glass of fizzing aspirin in water to him.

Yuuri accepted the glass with a low mutter of thanks under his breath and drank slowly, pulling a face at the slightly bitter taste, but wow, did the desert in his mouth feel happy about the hydration.

Victor crouched down beside Makka and looked up questioningly at Yuuri, hands entwined, elbows resting on his knees.

“How about a shower?” he asked after watching Yuuri gulp down the contents of the glass.

“That bad, huh?” Yuuri huffed. Victor’s soft chuckle did exactly nothing to improve his mood.

Victor took the empty glass from Yuuri’s hand and stood. One of his hands came down to Yuuri’s face, fingers brushing Yuuri’s chin very lightly as he raised Yuuri’s face to him and looked at him with an expression that distinctly resembled a cross between amusement and pity.

“Coffee?” Yuuri croaked. He tried for a cute smile, though god knew what his face looked like right now.

“Shower first.” Victor smiled. “Then hangover remedies.”

Yuuri felt a thousand years old as he rose from the couch and shuffled over to the bathroom. It was right next to his bedroom, and down the small hallway he could see Victor moving about in his open kitchen before he closed the bathroom door. He wished the pounding in his head would stop already because he really, really wanted to appreciate the view of Victor getting all domestic in his kitchen a little more.

Perhaps he should have opted for cold water, Yuuri thought when he found himself leaning against the shower wall and struggling to stay awake. Luckily the painkiller was kicking in and his headache subsiding. His arms were sore and heavy when he lifted them to wash his hair. Dancing a demanding Bollywood routine when out of practice would do that, he reckoned, and then he smiled as he remembered the utter fun it had been. The hot water felt like a warming blanket, and with the citrusy scent of his shampoo and shower gel he felt like he was washing off the more unpleasant remnants of the night before and made room for the nicer ones. The pink flush the hot water painted on his skin increased and spread as he thought about the body he’d been dancing up so close to last night. He let his head drop back under the warm spray for a moment, trying to keep his mouth closed because drowning in his own shower as he grinned like a tired loon over the fact that that very body was just moving around his apartment would be a really stupid way to go.

His eyes flew open when he heard determined pounding on the bathroom door and Victor’s voice.

“Don’t fall asleep in the shower, Yuuri, or do you want me to come in and get you!”

Wincing, Yuuri turned the shower off.

“And what if I do?” Yuuri muttered grumpily, and was instantly wide awake when he realised how loud his words sounded, echoing in the tiled bathroom without the shower running anymore. He watched the door with held breath, but there was silence on the other side. Yuuri exhaled slowly. He wrapped a towel around his waist and stepped close to the sink to start an elaborate process of brushing his teeth.

Towel still around his waist and a second one around his shoulders, Yuuri finally emerged from the bathroom. He could hear Victor in the kitchen, but he still hurried the short distance to this bedroom and quickly closed the door behind him. He got dressed and opened his bedroom window. A thought struck him suddenly and he eyed the door, calculating how much time he might have until Victor came knocking again thinking he had fallen asleep.

But he couldn’t _not_ , he decided, and changed the sheets in record time, just in case. Luckily he always kept his bedroom quite tidy. Having to worry about cleaning up a mess on top of everything else right now would have brought on more anxiety than his heart and his hangover could handle. He left the window tilted, sprayed a few puffs of the expense Japanese air freshener his mother always sent him, and made sure there weren’t really any socks or soggy tissues hidden under the bed and no embarrassing hentai manga by his bedside. On his way out he made a detour to the bathroom, placed the bucket under the sink and stuffed the used sheets into the laundry basket.

Hair still wet and feet bare, he made his way into the kitchen.

Victor had his back to him, standing by the stove and stirring in a pot with a wooden spoon. Yuuri watched him for a moment, just took in the sight of Victor in his kitchen, wearing simple black pants and a grey T-shirt, long sleeves pushed up to this elbows, the pale curve of his throat exposed as he leaned slightly over the pot. Yuuri remembered what I felt like to bury his mouth there and suddenly felt regret he hadn’t left a mark there last night that would tell him now it had really happened.

A washed plastic container with matching lid that Yuuri hadn’t seen before was out on the rack to dry, and a tangy, spicy scent lingered in the air, though Yuuri was sure he could make out coffee, too, hoping it wasn’t just wishful thinking. The memories from the night before were still somewhat fuzzy, but Yuuri was pretty sure of one thing he was very much allowed to do now. So he did. He walked up to Victor and wrapped his arms around his middle from behind, and if his stomach hadn’t been heaving a little with the aftereffects of too much to drink he would probably have enjoyed the onslaught of a battalion of happy butterflies inside him even more.

His heart was pounding madly in his chest when Victor turned around in his embrace. Yuuri moved his arms up so that he could bring one around Victor’s neck, the other he wound tight around Victor’s back. He loved how Victor automatically wrapped both his arms around his waist and brought him closer. Their faces were mere centimetres apart and Yuuri leaned in for a kiss, loving the feeling of Victor’s warm lips against his own, parting slightly for just the tiniest bit of tongue teasing until they came apart again.

“Hi,” Yuuri said softly and smiled.

“Hi.” Victor smiled back at him, all heart-shaped and dancing eyes. “How are you feeling?”

Yuuri winced. “I’ve been better.”

“I shouldn’t have let you get so drunk last night, I’m so—“

“Ah!” Yuuri stopped him by placing one finger over his lips. “No sorry, no thank you, remember?” He grinned.

Victor shook his head, laughing softly like he thought Yuuri was a little ridiculous about that. Then his face fell as he leaned back as much as the closeness of their embrace allowed and looked down Yuuri’s body.

“YUUUURI!!!!!” He looked personally insulted by Yuuri’s outfit. “Did you have to???”

“I don’t feel too good, I’m allowed my most comfortable sweater,” Yuuri deadpanned, ignoring Victor’s pout and looking around Victor’s side towards the stove, where some kind of red soup with meat and vegetables was bubbling away. “So what’s this?”

“ _Solyanka_ ,” Victor said. He frowned once more at Yuuri’s choice of fashion and heaved a sigh like a man accepting his arduous fate. “A Russian soup, very good for hangovers. Lilia’s secret family recipe.”

“You made that?” Yuuri asked.

“I always have some in my freezer for emergencies.” Victor smiled.

Yuuri reluctantly released his hold on Victor and took a step back, watching how Victor turned back to the stove and gave another good stir before he turned off the hob.

“Please tell me there’s coffee,” Yuuri said and looked around the kitchen. A paper bag sporting a familiar café logo sat on the counter. Yuuri side-eyed Victor before he opened it to peep inside and grinned at the muffins.

“I figured since you were not coming to the park today, I’d bring the park to you.”

Victor’s voice was suddenly very close beside him, his chin literally resting on Yuuri’s shoulder, one hand brushing over the small of Yuuri’s back. Yuuri’s grin widened and he brought the paper bag closer to his face to not be quite so stupidly obvious. Victor moved around behind him, familiar with the works of Yuuri’s kitchen by now after several Bollywood and international dinner nights, and when he told Yuuri to sit, Yuuri followed suit with a cup of steaming black coffee in his hand.

The kitchen table was laid with spoons, glasses, napkins, and a large jug of water that had some lemon wedges in it. Much to his surprise, Yuuri also found his glasses on the table. He remembered giving them to Victor in the club. He must have been really drunk and preoccupied to not really miss them until now. He held them against the light, breathed on them and cleaned them with a napkin before he put them on.

Slices of French bread were arranged on a wooden chopping board, one half of the bread still inside a paper bag bearing the logo of the same café that the muffins came from. Yuuri poured water into the empty glasses and reached for a slice of bread, looking up guiltily at Victor who was just at this moment coming to the table with another glass in his hand.

“Sorry…” Yuuri mumbled around a bite of bread, covering his mouth with one hand.

Victor just laughed and placed the glass in front of him. “Drink this.”

Yuuri frowned and swallowed the bread before he picked up the glass and took a sniff. From up close the acidy stench of the pale green liquid was even worse.

“This smells like pickle juice,” he said, recoiling.

“That’s probably because it _is_ pickle juice.” Victor stood by the stove, about to ladle soup into a bowl. “Another Russian hangover remedy. You drink it.”

Yuuri looked at the glass like it was offensive, then at Victor. “I’m not drinking that.”

“Oh, you are.” Victor’s smile was infuriating.

“That’s disgusting.”

Soup forgotten, Victor leaned back against the kitchen counter and crossed both arms in front of his chest. “I find that a very bold statement from someone whose traditional breakfast consists of raw egg on rice and smelly fermented soy beans.” He seemed amused.

“Pickle juice, Victor!”

“Yuuuuri! You have pickles in your fridge and in your bentos.”

“They’re different.They’re _Japanese_ pickles.”

Victor raised one eyebrow as if to say ‘And what exactly is _that_ supposed to mean when it’s at home?’

“You want me to drink a whole glass of pickle juice,” Yuuri stated again.

“Yes, my darling, I want you to drink a whole glass of pickle juice.” Still that smile.

“Where’s yours?” Yuuri asked. “I’m not drinking this shit alone. You were drunk too.”

They stared each other down for a moment until Victor grabbed another glass from the kitchen cabinet and poured the rest of the liquid from a glass of pickles still sitting on the counter through a small colander. He placed the glass on the table where he would sit and went back to finally serving the soup.

Once they were both seated with bowls of steaming _solyanka_ in front of them, Victor raised his glass of pickle juice towards Yuuri with one eyebrow raised like in a challenge. Yuuri drank up as fast as he could, trying not to breathe so he wouldn’t taste, and immediately washed it down with water.

Whereas Victor made a big show, exclaimed “ _Vkusno!_ ” and smiled his heart-shaped smile.

“You’re ridiculous,” Yuuri said softly, trying to hold back a smile.

“You love it,” Victor replied.

Yuuri blushed. “Let’s eat,” he murmured.

They had coffee and muffins for dessert, then did the dishes together and cleaned up the kitchen. Way past lunchtime by now, they decided to take the dogs for a walk. It was a beautiful September day, with barely any clouds in a blue sky, the air crisp with the first taste of autumn, some trees already coming out with colour turning their leaves early. Their hands brushed exactly once between them before they slipped into each other, fingers tightly entwined while they followed two eager poodles along the streets. Or rather, just one small poodle, who seemed keen on showing Makkachin the small green a couple of blocks down from Yuuri’s building, the closest to their home where he could romp around without having to jog half across the city.

Yuuri sat on a bench, huddled into a running jacket and glad about his cuddly sweater no matter what Victor said. As he watched Victor playing with both dogs on the green, stopping to take pictures and selfies time and again, calling out to him whenever he felt the dogs were doing something particularly cute, Yuuri was glad about the collar of his jacket he had pulled up over half his face with the zipper because it hid his stupid, happy grin quite comfortably. And despite a slight chill in the afternoon air, just being here with Vicchan and Victor and Makkachin filled him with warmth from the inside.

“Yuuri.”

His eyes snapped open and he looked around, disoriented for a moment, until Victor’s face came into focus above him. The way Victor smiled at him did all kinds of things to Yuuri.

“Let’s get you home. You need a nap.”

He slept on the couch. Falling asleep to the sight of Victor sitting in the armchair at the foot of his sofa and waking up to Victor still being there hit him really hard. The blanket he usually kept over the back of the couch for cold nights was draped snug all around him now. He had no recollection of doing that, so it must have been Victor. His chest felt tight with that by now familiar overwhelming load of emotion Victor managed to bring out in him.

It seemed way into the afternoon already, the lights from the window dipping the room in that warm orange glow of late summer, early autumn afternoons. Yuuri lay very still for a moment, just watching Victor comfortably sitting back in the armchair with his legs crossed, Vicchan in his lap, one hand gently petting the small poodle while he held his phone in the other and read something on the screen. Makkachin was lying to Victor’s feet, dozing.

He must have stirred, because suddenly Victor looked up. The smile came instantly, and Yuuri felt his own face reciprocate like a mirror. Vicchan hopped down from Victor’s lap at one quiet command and Victor rose, carefully stepping over the dogs as he came over to the sofa and perched on the edge beside Yuuri’s hips.

“Feel better, my darling?” Victor reached out and ran one hand through Yuuri’s tousled hair.

Yuuri sat up and scooted up into the sofa corner, moaning a little tiredly, face scrunched in thought.

“Yeah.” He smiled crookedly. His headache was gone, and he didn’t feel nauseous when he moved anymore either. Before he could lean over the coffee table for his glasses Victor had already picked them up and placed them on Yuuri’s nose. Yuuri quickly grabbed Victor’s wrists so as not to let him go. He leaned in for a kiss, pulling Victor close with his arms coming around Victor’s neck, and Victor followed the invitation with his body, moving closer until he lay half on top of Yuuri. His right hand moved from where he’d planted it on the other side of Yuuri’s legs to grab the back of the couch, his left from the edge of the sofa to the arm rest, next to Yuuri’s head.

Yuuri opened his mouth like an invitation. He felt the touch of Victor’s tongue against his own all the way into his toes, sparks setting his whole being on fire. It was a lingering kiss, Yuuri tasting eagerly from Victor’s tongue hungrily exploring his mouth until he felt he couldn’t breathe and broke apart, panting, a small string of saliva threading their mouths. Victor caught Yuuri’s bottom lip between his lips for a moment, running his tongue over it. Yuuri smiled, forehead pressed close against Victor’s while he let his hands wander down Victor’s back until he reached the hem of his T-shirt and slipped them underneath. Victor was warmth and comfort, and Yuuri felt tempted to just pull Victor all the way up onto the couch until his body was buried under him.

“God, Yuuri… the things you do to me.” Victor sighed against his mouth.

Yuuri snorted quietly. “It’s rather the other way round.”

“So. Dinner? Or cuddles?” Victor grinned, and it looked wicked.

“Dinner _and_ cuddles of course, stupid question.” Yuuri brushed his mouth against Victor’s, smirking at the quiet moan he brought forth.

“Pizza and a movie okay?”

“Very okay. There’s flyers in the kitchen.”

“Yuuuuri! _Flyers_!” Victor pronounced the word like an insult and actually sneered a little. “We’re having Celestino’s, of course.”

“They’re at the other end of the city.” Yuuri frowned. “And they don’t deliver. We would have to go all the way there and wait there for ages while the owner talks to us in this loud voice of his and I don’t know if I have the head for that today to be honest. Sorry.” He looked at Victor a little sheepishly, knowing about his history with the restaurant of course.

“Ciao Ciao’s always been a bit too fond of the sound of his own voice, that’s true.” Victor smiled fondly. “But we don’t need to go there. I’ll call them in advance and just pick up the food when it’s ready.”

“They _do_ that?” Yuuri’s eyes widened behind his glasses.

“They do for _me_.” Victor grinned.

Like it cost him great effort and not without chasing Yuuri’s lips with his mouth for another kiss, Victor moved off of Yuuri until he was seated on the edge of the sofa again.

“These two probably need another walk too.” Yuuri looked past Victor at the dogs in Vicchan’s play corner. “I’ll take them around the block while you’re out.”

“Perfect.” Victor beamed at him, and Yuuri tried to not smile too hard about how easy all this was between them, and not to let his mind run away with silly notions about having this every day.

He got up and had another glass of water, still feeling somewhat parched. Waiting for Victor, he knelt down to play with the dogs, overhearing Victor’s phone call to the restaurant and hiding his grin in Makka’s fur when Victor suddenly interrupted himself and corrected, “On second thoughts, no garlic bread. No garlic in anything!”

They ended up leaving the house together, Victor kissing Yuuri goodbye with both his hands cupping Yuuri’s face like he was going on a business trip and not just across town to collect take-out. It was getting dark and Yuuri took the dogs back to the small green and let them have a little run. He checked his phone for messages but Phichit was surprisingly quiet. As were Leo and Guang Hong, but Yuuri saw on their Instagram feeds that they were having the romantic weekend they had gone to Paris for.

As he got back Victor was just getting out of the car, and they started laughing when they saw each other because this was, for a change, not timed. Back upstairs in Yuuri’s apartment Victor took care of feeding the dogs while Yuuri placed pizza cartons, plates, napkins and glasses as well a new jug of water on the coffee table before the couch.

“Did you order extra pizza rolls?” Yuuri asked as he emptied a small paper bag of its contents.

“No. I get them complementary.” Victor looked over from where he was crouched down cuddling poodles.

“Every time?”

Victor grinned.

“You’re impossible.” Smiling, Yuuri shook his head and bit into a pizza roll while he carried the others on a plate into the living room.

Victor joined him soon after, sitting back in the sofa corner with Yuuri sitting between his legs and cuddling back into his arms just like Leo and Guang Hong did every Friday. It made Yuuri giggle.

“What?” Victor asked, and Yuuri told him about that night of the Korean barbecue when he had looked at Sara and Mila in this particular corner of his sofa and wondered whether there was a certain secret to it that made all the couples end up just there.

“That’s a good sign then, no?” Victor placed a kiss in the back of Yuuri’s neck. Yuuri shivered.

They zapped around the TV stations a bit until they landed on some Sandra Bullock movie that they’d both seen before but decided to watch again.

“This looks like my living room, only I have a treadmill instead of a bike, and the sofa is facing the other way round.”

Victor pointed at the TV screen with a slice of pizza in his hand.

“Really?” Yuuri mused and bit into his own pizza slice, trying not to think about the rest of Victor’s apartment and when he might possibly get to see it.

In between eating their pizza they talked and commented over the movie. Victor teased that the context must look somewhat familiar to Yuuri, seeing as Chris was also a demanding boss.

“Yeah…” Yuuri leaned back against Victor’s chest. “But let’s not say Chris, but this is _you_.”

“Yuuuuri! I’m not even half as bad as that.” Yuuri could actually _hear_ the pout.

“So we come to your family home… do we also go by boat?” Victor asked, breaking a pizza roll in half and sharing it with Yuuri.

“No, but it’s a long journey. First we fly to Tokyo, then we get on another flight to Fukuoka, and then on the train to Hasetsu. And when there’s nobody to pick us up from the train station we have to walk.”

“Oh.”

Yuuri covered his mouth with his hand and laughed quietly around his food.

“My father is really nice though, not an arsehole like this one there,” he explained a while later. “And instead of a grandma I have my sister, but she’s… not very much like that one.”

“So I’m running around outside with the dogs,” Victor played along. “Talking to Chris on the phone because he’s being a nuisance, as usual, and then an eagle comes to take Makkachin.”

Yuuri almost snorted out the water he was drinking. “There aren’t any eagles in Hasetsu, only gulls. I would like to see those try to take Makka though, that would be fabulous.”

“Perhaps if they got a whole gang together. And Makka played dead.”

They laughed.

“So if we went and pretended we were in a relationship, would your family believe us?” Victor rested his chin on Yuuri’s shoulder and wound his free arm around Yuuri’s middle.

Yuuri didn’t move and kept his eyes firmly on the TV screen.

“I should hope we wouldn’t need to pretend,” he replied at last. “But if we were pretending or not, you should watch out for my sister either way, because you bring as much as one single tear to my eyes she’s going to take. You. Down.”

Victor didn’t say anything but Yuuri could feel him gulp.

“Which rap song would you shake your ass to then to impress my sister?” Yuuri asked, nodding at the screen where Sandra Bullock was shaking her booty to ‘Get Low”.

“It’s a surprise,” Victor replied. “But your sister would love it, and so would you.”

Yuuri laughed and leaned over to put more pizza on their respective plates.

“See, I would have to go like this, too, ‘VICTOR! STOP! TALKING!’” Yuuri commented while the final scene of the movie panned out. “Because you wouldn’t shut up.”

“But _I_ would never pretend I didn’t see anything. Because I would have totally checked you out when we were naked.”

“Victor.”

“I would have gone off script and snatched away your towel and followed you into the bathroom to check you out some more.”

“Victor!”

“Now don’t deny you wouldn’t have checked me out too, Yuuri.”

“Of _course_ I would have!”

They laughed through the funny interrogation he movie ended with. Yuuri stretched his arms over his head.

“You know one my favourite things I really, really hate about this thing?” Victor tugged on Yuuri’s sweater at his lower back. “It’s so long you’re actually sitting on it. I can’t just pull it up and get my hands underneath!”

“You have favourites?”

“Yuuri, I have a list!”

“You do not have a list!”

“As a matter of fact I do. 10 Things I Hate About Your Sweater.”

“You just made that up.”

“I _could_ have a list.”

“Well, it would have to be list, since we both know you can’t do charts to save your life.”

“Yuuuuri! So mean!”

“Let me know when you do make that list, I can’t wait to see you come up with ten actual things!”

Chuckling, Yuuri leaned back against Victor’s chest again, sighing when both of Victor’s arms came around his waist. Victor’s chin was still on Yuuri’s shoulder, and he brought one of his arms up and wound it back behind Victor’s head. Remote control in his other hand, he zapped listlessly through the TV channels again. He came across a music station, and suddenly Yuuri stilled. The familiar sound plucked all kinds of strings inside him. On the TV screen Justin Timberlake was singing in a mirror cabinet, but in his mind Yuuri suddenly saw different glass, below and around them, illuminated by swirling shapes.

He felt Victor go still behind him as well, and it was as if the memories catapulted them both back to the previous night. Yuuri leaned back into Victor, craving to recreate the closeness, and suddenly he got an inkling of why Victor despised his sweater so much because it was really too long and he wanted nothing more than to feel Victor’s hands on his skin like he has last night. He shifted around a little between Victor’s legs, raised his arse off of the couch and Victor was quick to grab the chance to tug on the hem of the sweater like he had been ready for this moment. Yuuri slumped back with a sigh into Victor’s touch, warm hands on his skin now. The feeling fell into place like the one thing that had been missing all day. Victor’s touch. It had been building up, from hugs to kisses to holding hands, but more was needed now.

Yuuri squirmed between Victor’s legs, trying to give him more room to touch him. Frustrated, he wriggled out of Victor’s embrace and turned around, raising himself up on his knees until he had manoeuvred them both into a position where he was kneeling above Victor with his knees on the couch left and right to Victor’s legs. He took off his glasses and placed them safely on the coffee table. Victor’s hands were already back under his sweater, roaming up his back and coming around the front, fingertips skimming over his stomach and making him shudder.

The music coming from the TV brought back memories of closeness, and Yuuri suddenly felt every single centimetre between them too much. His hands came up to cup Victor’s face as he rose on his knees and leaned in, just caressing every line, every angle, every curve, every dent of Victor’s face as if he wanted to memorise it with his fingertips. The song resounded in his heart. They looked into each other’s eyes for the longest time, and Yuuri felt overwhelmed by the sheer amount of emotion he could see in the blue of Victor’s eyes and reflecting back and forth between the two of them. By that absolute certainty that they were on the very same page. That they were really like two halves who made each other complete. It was scary, and exhilarating.

Victor had brought one of his hands into the back of Yuuri’s neck, caressing the sensitive stretch of skin right beneath his hairline. He started smiling, very slowly, just like Yuuri felt a smile blossom on his own face.

There was this one moment he had read and heard about and never believed existed - that you could look at someone and suddenly know with absolute certainty that you were going to be kissed.

Their lips all but clashed, meeting with hunger and need in wet, open-mouthed kisses that wrung moans from the both of them. Yuuri shoved one hand into Victor’s hair and gripped a handful of silver, moulding Victor’s head gently into their kiss, while his other hand shot down on Victor’s side and under his shirt, desperate to feel skin. Victor arched his back away from the sofa corner and into Yuuri’s touch, asking for more of the eager hand currently dancing up and down his side and making him tremble. Victor gladly accepted Yuuri’s tongue pushing into his mouth, assaulting all the senses with the sensual dance he led Victor’s mouth to. Yuuri opened his eyes, just a moment, he promised himself, because everybody knows one should never trust a person who kisses with their eyes open, but oh, the sight of Victor giving himself to his kiss with his eyes closed and pink tinted cheeks was delicious and touched on so many heartstrings inside Yuuri. He took Victor’s bottom lip between his teeth very gently, ran his tongue along the kiss-swollen plush skin. Victor responded with a soft groan and one of his hand gripping Yuuri’s hip for support while his other hand cupped Yuuri’s arse and pulled him closer into his own body. Yuuri’s eyes fell shut and he thrust his tongue into Victor’s mouth again, was met with equal need, the sensuous play of tongues shooting heat straight down into Yuuri’s cock. He could begin to feel himself getting hard in his pants just from kissing Victor and it felt, in one word, amazing. He wanted to kiss every inch of Victor’s body. He wanted Victor’s mouth everywhere on himself.

Heady from acute need for air, Yuuri pulled off of Victor, hating to loose contact with this mouth the moment they came apart. They were both panting heavily, Victor’s eyes shining when he opened them and looked at Yuuri, a smile stretching the corners of his mouth into a perfect heart-shape. Yuuri leaned his cheek against Victor’s and chuckled quietly against his face when he felt Victor tugging with eager hands on the hem of his sweater, trying to get as much of it out of the way as possible. His hands were incredibly warm as they roamed across Yuuri’s back, re-drew the curve of his hips, strummed an invisible tune on his lower abdomen.

Yuuri leaned back until he was able to see Victor’s face. “You’re just dying to get this sweater off me, huh?”

“Yuuri, it’s mocking me!” Blue eyes danced with mirth. Yuuri felt slain.

“If you take my sweater off me I get to do _this_.”

“Yuuri.” His name was more of a sigh than a word from Victor’s mouth. He stopped Yuuri’s hands where they were tugging on the hem of his shirt. “I need to…” He swallowed, held Yuuri’s hands clasped tight between his own. “I have to tell you something.”

The smile dropped from Yuuri’s face. It was like an ice-cold shower out of nowhere. Suddenly Victor looked so pained that it made Yuuri feel like choking on sadness. Nausea rose up in him, fear that this day that had been so perfect could suddenly come to an unexpected, unwanted end. He felt frozen, struggling hard to get the words out, afraid of _any_ answer.

“Victor, is this about…” He cleared his throat, but the lump sitting there was persistent. “Do you need more time? Would you rather… not be here right now?” His heart was thumping so madly that he feared Victor would hear it. Anxiety unfurled violently in his insides like a snake with too many heads poised to bite.

Victor heaved a huge sigh, the hints of a sad smile tugging hard on the corners of his mouth. His voice was loaded with emotion. “Oh Yuuri, there’s no place I’d rather be than here with you!”

“You look sad…” Yuuri pried his hands free from Victor’s grasp and brought them up to caress his face. He hated to see Victor sad. He knew he wouldn’t be able to bear it if this stopped now. He couldn’t possibly bear a night alone after this day, and not after the way they had physically pined for each other last night for the whole world to see. He hoped that Victor could see that in his eyes without him having to beg.

“Victor.” His voice came out close to an urgent whisper. “Can we not talk about sad things today? Please?”

Victor looked at him for the longest time, cradling his cheek in Yuuri’s hand while whole battles seemed to be fought inside him. At long last he pried one of Yuuri’s hands free of his face and laced his finger’s tight with Yuuri’s, breathed a kiss on them. “Okay,” he said softly, the hint of a heart-shape curling his mouth. He looked every inch like a man who had taken a severe defeat, and Yuuri hated it, he hated seeing Victor like this here and now when they were so close. When he wanted them to share so many things and were only just starting.

Victor’s shirt was gone the next moment, yanked over his arms and head by Yuuri’s eager hands and tossed over the back of the sofa. Yuuri felt the breath hitch in his throat at the sight of Victor. For a long moment he just looked his fill of him, broad shoulders and toned abs, marble skin that he knew would look utterly delightful with a pink flush of arousal spreading all over. He didn’t get to admire him for long because Victor was way too eager to get his nemesis out of the way. Yuuri raised his arms obediently and let Victor have what he wanted, or rather what he did not want, which was Yuuri’s sweater anywhere in the vicinity. He tossed it carelessly at the foot of the sofa behind Yuuri, an actually accomplished smirk playing around his lips that had Yuuri tutting.

They couldn’t stop their hands once they had access. It was like a dam had broken, all restraint come off with their shirts. The kissed like drowning people, touched like they had not felt the warmth of another person for years.At one point Yuuri drew himself away reluctantly, looking down at Victor, all out of breath, concerned.

“Victor… is this okay? I mean, you’re on the rebound and…”

“I’m not on the rebound,” Victor cut him off, fingers digging deep into Yuuri’s hips.

“Sure?” A little anxious, Yuuri chewed on his bottom lip.

Victor looked at him, head tilted to one side, expression serious.

“Yuuri. I spent ten minutes leaning against the wall outside your bathroom door this morning contemplating whether you meant what you said about wanting me to come in or whether you were just being catty.”

“Oh.” The flush of arousal on Yuuri’s face and neck intensified. “You did hear that.”

Victor skimmed his hands over Yuuri’s stomach and up his chest, fingertips brushing pert nipples and making Yuuri gasp. “I’ve wanted this for quite some time. I’ve wanted _you_.”

Yuuri took a deep breath that seemed almost painful. “Victor, I need to… I want to _have_ you.”

Victor looked already wrecked, leaning back in the sofa corner, arms stretching out with his hands reluctant to lose contact with Yuuri’s body.

“Then have me, my darling. Tonight, everything is yours.”

The words went straight to Yuuri’s crotch.

“Bedroom!” he said and scrambled off of the couch.

He held one hand out to Victor to pull him up, unwilling to let go for one second, though as they passed the kitchen and Victor asked Yuuri to wait a moment, he frowned.

“I wasn’t sure if you…” Victor started looking for something in the paper bag he had come over with in the morning. “Or if it would even come to his, but just in case….”

“Oh.” Yuuri looked at the well known logo on the small chemist’s shopping bag in Victor’s hand and felt his ears burn with awkwardness. Not really, he could have said, but would rather have bitten off his tongue. He should have thought of that himself when he walked the dogs, but he had been too deep in his own head. And while he always had lube in his bedside drawer, he didn’t even want to think about how awkward that would have been to admit in the best moment of his life that he had no condoms in the house. And no friends home on whose door he could have knocked in his hour of need.

“You came prepared,” he said, and felt like an idiot right away because what a stupid thing was that to say at this moment, really? Affection for Victor and his thoughtfulness flooded his chest.

“Let’s call it hopeful.” Smiling, Victor switched off the light in the kitchen and in the living room and followed to where Yuuri was waiting in his open bedroom door.

Yuuri lay back on his bed and tried to reign in his galloping heartbeat. He tried to focus on something other than Victor currently moving slowly down his body, showering him with kisses in doing so, before he lost it like a horny teenager. He tried to concentrate on the soft light in his bedroom that the bedside lamp shed, the way he had sloppily pulled the curtains, the outline of his bookshelves, his wardrobe, the way the sheets bunched in his hands as he fisted around them. It was no good. The moment Victor grazed his teeth over one nipple and squeezed the other hard between two fingers, Yuuri moaned out loud and arched his back into Victor’s touch.

Victor’s breath was warm against Yuuri’s stomach, and Yuuri cursed quietly in Japanese, feeling a little embarrassed as wet kisses and kitten licks were peppered all over what he knew was that stretch of tummy fat he never managed to get rid of no matter what he tried.

“Stop that…” Yuuri murmured, hiding flushed cheeks behind one arm.

“Not a chance.” Yuuri felt the reverberations of Victor’s chuckling against his skin. “I’ve been dying to do this since I saw you Bollywood dancing and your shirt rode up.”

He took his sweet time, enjoying to make Yuuri squirm in the process. Until the weight shifted on the bed and Yuuri dared open his eyes, only to find Victor kneeling between his legs, hands running up and down Yuuri’s thighs, kneading and stroking like he had never done anything he enjoyed more, inching a little higher every time until his hands brushed the outline of Yuuri’s erection through his pants and Yuuri’s hips flew off the bed, straining for more. Looking down, he saw Victor look up at him with an utterly smug grin.

Mesmerised and panting, Yuuri watched Victor’s hands unbutton his pants, pull the zipper down excruciatingly slowly. He closed his eyes again and turned his head into his pillow. His pants weren’t even halfway down his thighs when he heard a sound he absolutely didn’t want to hear in his bedroom, ever.

Victor was laughing.

Yuuri rose himself up on his elbows and looked down, frowning.

“This is not how I pictured this particular situation to go down,” he commented drily.

Victor grinned up at him, eyes blazing with delight. “I _knew_ you were going to love those!”

Yuuri’s frown deepened. He followed Victor’s gaze, the cheeky fingertips slipping underneath the waistband of his underpants. His… oh. The underpants he had insisted he absolutely did not want, and certainly would not let Victor pick for him in Milan. He had forgotten all about that when he got dressed in the morning. So much for keeping that purchase a secret from Victor.

And then Victor placed a kiss right there, on the outline of his hard cock through the cotton of his fancy Italian briefs, and Yuuri felt his breath hitch in this throat and himself flush crimson all over.

They were naked not even one minute later.

Victor made good on his promise. He let Yuuri have everything. Lying back for him on his bed, he rested his weight on his elbows, watching how Yuuri took his time kissing and tasting every inch of his body.

Victor fell back on the bed, arms limply by his side, until Yuuri reached up and found his hand with his, fingers gripping tight while Yuuri’s other hand wound around the base of Victor’s cock. He looked sinful, plush lips wrapped around Victor’s length, and Victor couldn’t help but bring his free hand down to Yuuri’s face. Skim fingertips across a hollowed cheek and then grab a handful of black messy hair to hold on to.

He wanted to smile at the picture Yuuri made, looking at his cock with so much admiration that it would have gone to the head of the humblest man. But the smile was knocked clean off his face a moment later, and Victor bit his lip as he watched. He could almost _feel_ Yuuri’s eyes on his cock, the sheer intensity, and moaned helplessly at the sight of Yuuri’s tongue dancing around his length, licking and sampling him like he had never tasted anything better.

Victor couldn’t stop his hips from flying off the bed, thrusting helplessly into the wet heat of Yuuri’s mouth, and he might have felt embarrassed if Yuuri hadn’t obviously enjoyed it as much as he did. Working his way around the thickness that filled his mouth, he struggled a little to control the gagging reflex when Victor suddenly hit the back of his throat, pulling off slowly. Victor watched every inch of his slick wet cock emerging from between Yuuri’s lips and almost forgot to breathe when their eyes locked and Yuuri pulled off his mouth for a moment, saliva and leaking pre-cum stringing from those plump lips of his. There was definitely a little smirk on his face before he kissed softly along the outer ridge of the engorged head, and Victor had to bite his bottom lip or he would have mewled. His hand tightened around Yuuri’s fingers. His let go off Yuuri’s hair with his other hand and reached up for the lube he had placed on the bedside table.

Tapping Yuuri’s shoulder lightly until Yuuri looked up, Victor handed him the lube, pleading with his eyes.

Yuuri let his cock slide from his mouth but kept his hand wrapped around it, stroking lightly.

“You sure?” Yuuri asked,even though the message in Victor’s needy eyes was very loud and clear.

Victor nodded. Yuuri’s eyes lit up and he raised himself on his elbows, still between Victor’s spread thighs.

He uncapped the lube with his mouth and heard Victor draw a sharp breath above him at the sight.

When his mouth returned to Victor’s cock, sucking down on it inch for inch, he slipped one generously lubricated finger between Victors cheeks and gently probed the puckered ring of muscle. Victor let his thighs fall further apart, growing restless under the double administrations of Yuuri’s mouth and fingers. His hand clutched Yuuri’s hand tight and his moans filled Yuuri’s bedroom. The second finger was too much; Victor bucked his hips and came with a groan down Yuuri’s throat. Yuuri’s chuckle around his oversensitive cock was almost more than he could bear, but he very much regretted the loss of Yuuri’s fingers when Yuuri crawled up on his body until he was lying between his parted thighs and Victor pulled him into an eager embrace and kissed him hungrily, one of his legs hitched high over Yuuri’s waist to give his hand better access.

They held each other, kissing, sucking possessive marks into tender skin wherever they could reach, all the while Yuuri worked Victor open with his fingers, stealing the throaty moans of his name from Victor’s lips like collecting precious stones. The feel of Victor’s hand he had snaked down between their bodies and wrapped around his throbbing cock drove him crazy and he pushed into Victor’s fist rhythmically, even though he knew he would go completely mad if he didn’t get to be inside him soon. 

“Victor.” Yuuri stilled all of a sudden, his eyes wide and sparkling. “Are you really sure about this?”

“Yuuri.” Victor took Yuuri’s free hand and held it still against his chest between their bodies.

“You’re overthinking,” Victor said patiently. “What is it, my darling?”

“I just…” Yuuri was chewing on his bottom lip again. “I want to do this right, Victor. I don’t want to hurt you. Have you…”

Victor cut him off with a kiss. “It’s been years since I’ve been with a man, but yes, Yuuri, I have, and am very sure.”

„But you _have_ done this before? I don’t want to…“ He flushed crimson.

Victor laughed softly. „Yuuri, even if I hadn’t, we would be going for this right now. Don’t you dare stop.”

Yuuri reclaimed his mouth with a groan. The man was driving him crazy, in all the good ways. He rolled him over onto his back and sipped his hand back between Victor’s thighs, watching for a moment how three of his fingers slipped so easily inside now, the feel of the stretch around his fingers sending a direct message to his leaking cock. Just a little more of that helpless moaning, Yuuri thought as he watched Victor with utter fascination, head thrashing on the bed and needy sounds wringing from his throat whenever Yuuri curved his finger inside him to brush his prostate. 

Victor felt the exact moment when Yuuri’s resolve wavered again, when he was overwhelmed by the burning need between them. He saw it in the almost anxious concentration on Yuuri’s face when he sheathed his cock with a condom, the way his hands trembled when he coated himself with lube. And Victor met him where he was. He slipped one hand into the back of Yuuri’s neck, fingers curling in the damp hair just so that it had the nerve ends singing. His legs fell further apart and he increased the friction by winding one leg up high around Yuuri’s and rocking into his thigh. All Yuuri could do was moan into the invitation. Victor pulled him in with his eyes, so dark with need, with the hand in the back of his neck, pulling Yuuri’s head down to his face, until all Yuuri felt was Victor’s mouth. Victor’s voice was deep with want, his breath hot and wet against Yuuri’s ear.

“ _Fuck_ me!”

And Yuuri snapped.

He hooked his arms under Victor’s knees and pushed them up against Victor’s chest, planted his hands firmly left and right of Victor’s body on the bed. Before he could reach down between their bodies, Victor’s hand was already there, guiding Yuuri’s cock inside himself. Yuuri cursed softly under his breath. He watched Victor’s face very closely for any signs of discomfort, the muscles and tendons in his arms straining as he held himself up and breached the tight ring of muscle very carefully. Victor’s eyes were closed, his throat on offer almost temptingly as he arched his back and uttered just the quietest sigh.

“Victor…” Yuuri murmured when he was fully seated. “Look at me. I need to _know_...”

Victor’s eyes fluttered open. A blissful smile curled his lips as if to assure him he was fine.

It was all Yuuri needed to move. He set a fast pace, unable to do anything else but to fuck Victor deep and thorough into the mattress, taking his cues from the way he accepted him so gladly, from the way his hips met his thrusts, the way he had his eyes closed and made all those sounds that went straight to Yuuri’s cock, eager to do better, give him more of what was obviously making him feel really good. Victor was hot and tight, and Yuuri wanted to be inside him forever. 

“Yuuri.”

Yuuri stilled above him when he heard Victor say his name, arms trembling with the strain of holding himself up, face twisted with sudden concern.

“I just…” Victor shook his head on the pillow. He looked happy. “You feel so good.”

Yuuri smiled. “Right back at you.”

He bent his head to kiss him, thrust his tongue into his mouth like he thrust into his body, latched onto every bit of skin he could reach and sucked marks into pale skin, soothing the burn with wet licks of his tongue.

“Touch yourself for me!” Yuuri demanded. “Let me see you, Victor.”

He moaned out loud when he watched Victor’s hands come up and long slender fingers started to work perky nipples into hard nubs, watched in fascination how roughly Victor worked himself before he let one hand slide down his toned abs until he had it wrapped around his cock and started stroking himself, trying to time his pace with Yuuri’s rhythm. Their eyes met, and Yuuri felt his heart and soul in his chest at the sight of Victor underneath him, pale skin flush with arousal and silver hair plastered to his forehead, eyes dark and glazed over with lust, mouth half open and abused from too many kisses, uttering broken moans with every single one of Yuuri’s thrusts.

“God, you’re beautiful!” Yuuri rasped out and slammed faster into this tight heat, angling his hips to make sure he hit that spot that had Victor cry out and grip Yuuri’s arm hard with the hand that was not working his cock frantically.

Yuuri felt it building up, not just in himself but sizzling like electricity between the two of them. The pressure became unbearable, sending tingles from his groin up his back and all through his body. He wanted to explode, and he wanted to take Victor over the edge with him.

“Yuuri… please, I’m so close, I…” Victor was panting, forcing out words with barely a voice. “Come with me… let’s… together…”

“Victor…” Was that really his own voice, Yuuri wondered? So loud and throaty?

Yuuri’s movements became erratic and his vision went white for a moment as he threw back his head and a long moan wrung itself from his very core. He felt sticky heat hit his stomach only seconds later and dropped his head, claiming Victor’s mouth in frantic kisses as he rode out his orgasm, thrusting into Victor’s pliable body a couple more times until he was spent and going limp. He hoisted himself up on one arm, hoping it wouldn’t give out under him just yet as he reached down to hold on to the condom while he pulled out slowly, regretting every single inch of it. For a moment he rolled himself onto his back and desperately gulped air into his lungs, before he half sat up and discarded the condom wrapped in a tissue he grabbed from the box by his bed. He yanked out a handful more tissues and turned onto his side, facing Victor.

Victor’s hand met his and took some of the tissues from him, and they wiped him off together, throwing the tissues out of the bed unceremoniously. The moment their eyes met they smiled, still breathless, still high on endorphins. There was no way Yuuri could stay away from him, and Victor was already reaching out for him too as Yuuri leaned over, chasing more kisses, tender kisses this time, gentle tongues soothing swollen lips and slipping between them, tasting from each other.

“That was…” Yuuri started, but didn’t find the words to say, so he kissed Victor some more and loved how their bodies moulded together.

“It was beautiful,” Victor murmured against his mouth. “ _You’re_ beautiful.”

“I’m tired,” Yuuri sighed.

“And so charming, too,” Victor teased.

“Happy,” Yuuri offered. “I’m insanely, stupidly happy just now. How’s that?”

“Amazing.” Victor’s smile made him glad he was lying down or the sheer power in it would have knocked him off his feet. “So am I.”

He had never lived up to his reputation as a cuddler more than he did now, Yuuri thought, as he felt Victor’s arms and hands all over him, legs entangled like he couldn’t bear to let go of his body, kissing him softly and eagerly on the mouth, the nose, his closed eyelids, and everywhere else he could reach before he nuzzled the curve of Yuuri’s neck and Yuuri felt slain by the wish to just hold onto this man and this moment.

“Sleep?” he asked and kissed the top of Victor’s head.

“Sleep,” Victor murmured against his throat.

Yuuri reached over to switch off the small bedside lamp. They moved around a bit in the dark under the blanket, unfamiliar with each other’s presence in the same bed and the challenge of trying to combine one’s favourite position to sleep in with the wish to hold on to another person. The last thing Yuuri remembered before falling asleep was that he was lying on his side with Victor wrapped around his back like an octopus.

Victor woke up to Yuuri squirming against him. It took him a moment to come to, then a pleasant soreness in places he hadn’t felt for a long, long time brought back memories and a big smile to his face, brought him back, too, to the heat and motion that was currently Yuuri in his arms and the way his body reacted to him immediately. He heard a soft moan from Yuuri, and if the thought of removing himself had ever occurred to him, there was no way on earth he could have done so, for Yuuri was holding on tight to the arms Victor still had wrapped around him. And he was rocking back against Victor’s throbbing hard on like a desperate man.

Victor started leaving kisses on Yuuri’s neck and shoulders to let him know he was awake, murmuring lowly into his ear, the first little endearments that came to his mind.

Yuuri tilted his head back as far as he could and Victor leaned over for a kiss, feeling the burning need in the way Yuuri’s sucked his tongue deep into his mouth and worked his own tongue around it. They broke apart, gasping, and Yuuri took one of Victor’s hands and placed it on his chest. Victor understood and worked sensitive nipples into hard buds until Yuuri whimpered.

“Victor…” Hearing his name gasped so desperately by Yuuri made something constrict hard in Victor’s chest. “I want… I need…”

Victor ran one hand down Yuuri’s thigh and reached around the knee, gently draping Yuuri’s leg back over his own. His hand skimmed lower, closed around Yuuri’s cock that was throbbing against his stomach and filled his hand so well now, straining against his fingers. Victor ran his thumb over the tip, smiling when he heard Yuuri’s low moan, and he would have loved to taste the moisture he could feel leaking but he would save that for later. Instead, he brought his hand lower, cupping Yuuri’s balls and working them gently in his hand with he full intention of drawing more of those breathy sounds from Yuuri.

Yuuri’s hand reached up for his bedside drawer. He groped around for a bit and finally took out a small tube. Blindly reaching for Victor’s hand, he handed the lube to him.

“Victor, can you…” he moaned. “Prepare me, please… I _need_ you…”

“Can I ever,” Victor murmured lowly against Yuuri’s ear and nipped lightly at the pink lobe. It was burning up, much like the rest of Yuuri’s body. He brought Yuuri’s leg down again and moved him carefully a little more to his front to make it a bit easier for the both of them. Okay, maybe not for the both of them, Victor thought as he bit back a groan. This man before him had a god-given arse and Victor felt like a very, very lucky man just now. Once he had his fingers generously coated with lube he slipped one finger between Yuuri’s cheeks and ran the tip carefully around the puckered rim before he pushed inside.

“Another one!” Yuuri demanded almost right away, and Victor’s eyes widened. Suddenly he wondered just what exactly Yuuri got up to all alone in his bed with that lube always within reach, and the thought that he might possibly be thinking about _him_ as he did so knocked the air right out of his lungs.

Victor almost laughed. “You’re going to be the death of me,” he muttered, but did what he was asked.

Yuuri grew very frantic very quickly, his body taking Victor’s fingers so much more easily and readily that it conformed Victor’s suspicions and made him blush possibly all over with stupid male pride.

“Gorgeous.” Victor peppered kisses all over Yuuri’s neck and shoulder blades, everywhere he could reach, watching Yuuri pushing back and fucking himself on three of Victor’s fingers. “You’re so gorgeous, Yuuri.”

Victor wasn’t surprised when he found himself flipped over onto his back and Yuuri straddling his sides just moments later. Yuuri was all tousled hair and graceful limbs, a flush of arousal spreading from his face down his neck and chest. And he was determined, and Victor was just very weak for him. Transfixed, he watched Yuuri roll a condom down his length and add lube for good measure. Then Yuuri was kneeling above him again and Victor couldn’t avert his eyes from him as he rose slightly on his knees, positioning himself over Victor’s cock. He was not slow in sinking down, and Victor felt his mouth open in what was probably not the most elegant manner but Yuuri was just too gorgeous spearing himself on his cock and starting to move without much ceremony.

And oh, how he moved.

Victor wouldn’t have been surprised to find he was still dreaming. Yuuri’s hips and the things he could do with them had been haunting him, taunting him like fever dreams all night after the club. He had been rock hard in the taxi all the way home and spent an undefined part of the night bringing himself off again and again, moaning Yuuri’s name into his pillows until he was sore and spent and not even the thought of Yuuri’s hips could make him hard again and he slept, but even in his dreams Yuuri never stopped dancing.

This was far better though. The music Yuuri was making with his body.

His hands on Yuuri’s hips, Victor just watched, and felt, and drank in the experience. Early morning sun seeped in through the breaks in the badly drawn curtains and dipped everything in soft colours. Everything was soft and slow. The way Yuuri ran his hands up along his sides and found his nipples, squeezing down hard on the dark buds. The way he circled his hips and the way his thighs tensed as he rose and lowered himself back down on Victor’s length. The way he threw back his head with his eyes closed, arms raised and hands in his hair, riding Victor, completely lost to the world.

“Yes.” Victor’s voice was quiet and husky. “Like this, my darling. Take your pleasure!”

Yuuri opened his eyes and pried Victor’s hands from his hips. He laced their fingers together and Victor pushed back against his hands to hold up the tension, which allowed Yuuri to lower himself forward slowly, shifting slightly to adjust to the new angle, until he brought their entwined hands down on the bed, left and right of Victor’s body. He smiled down at Victor as he began to mover faster, angling his movements in a way that gave him complete control. One of his hands let go of Victor’s so that he could slide it between their bodies and take hold of his cock, starting to stroke himself in time with his slamming down on Victor’s length. Victor used his now free hand to steady Yuuri’s movement with one hand on his arse but letting Yuuri dictate the pace. They came quietly, almost as if the silence of the morning didn’t allow for anything loud.

Yuuri got rid of the condom and wiped them off with some tissues before he stretched himself out across Victor’s body, faces close together as Victor hugged him tight.

“Good morning,” Yuuri said softly and smiled.

“Now there’s an understatement if I’ve ever heard one.” Victor grinned and stole a kiss. “Good morning, Yuuri.”

Yuuri sighed, happy. He scooted a little further down on the bed and buried his face against Victor’s chest. Out of all the “Good morning, Yuuri”s he had ever heard from Victor, this was by far the best.

“I wish I could spend all day in bed with you,” he mused, fingers dancing lazily over Victor’s chest.

“What’s stopping you?” Victor ran his hands slowly up and down Yuuri’s back.

“Dogs need to go out.” Yuuri closed his eyes and breathed in Victor’s scent, remnants of the well known musky perfume overlain by something much more intimate and heady now, skin and sweat and sex.

“Oh, right. We have dogs.” They both chuckled.

They made it out of bed eventually, deciding that a shower and breakfast would be a good way to start a lazy Sunday. Yuuri collected all the rubbish around the bed, and the sight of crumpled tissues and foil wrappers made it hard for him to keep in a silly smile. He felt relieved, and somewhat excited, and so glad that Victor didn’t seem to need to be anywhere else. That Victor wanted to _stay_.

“Do you need a spare toothbrush or is there one in your sneaky chemist’s shopping bag?” he asked as he walked over to draw the curtains and open the bedroom window.

Victor grinned.

“There’s one in my sneaky chemist’s shopping bag,” he stated, facing away from Yuuri to look for the bag where he had dropped it somewhere around the bed last night. He found it under Yuuri’s pants by the foot of the bed and picked it up, peering inside.

Yuuri laughed and placed a little slap on Victor’s naked arse in passing as he walked to the door. Victor followed him with his eyes, the shopping bag in his hands forgotten.

“Stop ogling my butt!” Yuuri said without looking back.

“Yuuuuri! You’re asking the impossible of me and mankind!”

Yuuri didn’t even have time to adjust the water temperature properly when Victor’s hands already came past him and were planted left and right of his head against the shower wall. His breath sped up from the sheer closeness of Victor’s body alone. For a moment he thought about whether to turn around or not, but Victor was already moving in close, and Yuuri decided he’d rather be damned than miss out on that feeling. His own hands planted on the shower wall in front of him, he leaned back into Victor, relishing in the feeling of moulding his back into Victor’s chest and his arse into Victor’s crotch. His head fell back onto Victor’s shoulder, resulting in him presenting the curve of his neck like a delicacy on a silver plate, and Victor accepted greedily, sucking the sensitive skin, then soothing his tongue over it, knowing Yuuri would sport his marks for days. One of Victor’s hands came away from the wall and wrapped around his cock, stroking Yuuri to full hardness. Yuuri could feel Victor getting hard too and ground harder into him to help things along.

Yuuri was fully on board with being ravished in the shower, though that was clearly not what Victor had in mind. Placing both hands on Yuuri’s shoulders he turned him around. The look from his eyes was feral. 

“Victor…”

He hadn’t finished breathing his name when Victor’s mouth was on his, plunging his tongue in like he owned the place, the kind of kiss that left Yuuri with his ears ringing and panting for more.

“What are you doing??” he almost whined when Victor let go of him and went down on his knees.

“What does it look like I’m doing?”

Yuuri cursed under his breath when Victor shot him a wicked grin. The promise in it made him feel parched even though he was currently in the shower.

“Turn off the water,” Victor said.

“Why?”

“I want to hear you.”

Yuuri groaned, but his hand found the tap and turned off the shower like he was told.

Victor just grinned and proceeded to bring one of Yuuri’s legs over his shoulder. He let his fingertips dance along the underside of Yuuri’s thighs so wickedly that Yuuri jerked involuntarily forward, the movement making Victor’s fingers slide further between his butt cheeks and tease. His other hand wound around Yuuri’s cock, he moved in close and placed a first open-mouthed kiss on the head.

Even if Victor had not looked up at him and captured Yuuri’s gaze with his, Yuuri wouldn’t have been able to look away. Victor looked like sin on his knees, hair damp and tousled, pale skin, and that chiseled face, all shining blue eyes and lips plush from kissing. Yuuri’s breath became heavier just from looking at him.

Victor took his time on the head, licking and swirling his tongue for what seemed forever to Yuuri, thumb and forefinger squeezing the base with just enough pressure to keep Yuuri achingly hard. Yuuri bit down on his bottom lip as he watched Victor catch a first drop of pre-cum with his tongue, and damn him, Yuuri could _see_ him savouring his taste on his tongue, the tip of his tongue daring out to lick briefly over his upper lip like he had just sampled something exquisite. It looked insanely erotic. Finally, _finally_ , Victor closed his lips around the swollen head and maddeningly slowly sucked the length into his mouth. The heat and onslaught of firm strokes of tongue drove Yuuri crazy.

Never breaking eye contact was a first for Yuuri, but he wouldn’t have averted his eyes now under torture, fascinated by how Victor sucked him deeper and deeper, cheeks hollowed, long fingers holding the base firmly in place as he worked his mouth around the whole length. Yuuri moaned when he hit the back of Victor’s throat and the heat increased as Victor began bobbing his head, exceeding just the right amount of pressure, humming lightly around his length. Yuuri began to feel acutely weak in the knees.

He wasn’t breathing, Yuuri realized, he was _panting_ , obscenely loud in the tiled shower cabin, but Victor was just so good at this. He watched his cock slide very slowly from Victor’s mouth, glistening wet and throbbing, watched the administrations of Victor’s tongue swirling up and down his shaft with just the right amount of pressure that it had him moaning obscenities. His choice of words seemed to amuse Victor, for there was a wicked glint in his eyes and the hint of a smile in the corners of his busy mouth. There was nowhere to hold on to against the smooth shower wall, and his hands searched restlessly on the tiles until Victor’s free hand came up and took hold of his, fingers wound tight around Yuuri’s. Yuuri stilled a little, drawing so much intimacy from this gesture that it made his chest want to burst.

Victor’s other hand was caressing his balls, kneading his arse and if anything using the motion to push Yuuri’s cock deeper into his mouth until Yuuri felt that familiar tingle of impending orgasm.

“Victor, stop… I’m gonna— _fuck!_ ” Yuuri cried out and pounded the shower wall with his fist when he felt the pressure of Victor’s fingers on his perineum and thought he was going to combust with pleasure.

He was glad for the wall in his back and for Victor’s hands to steady him, because even with his elevated leg back on the ground he was shaking from coming so hard. Coming down Victor’s throat, too, he realised and flushed crimson. There had been no chance to pull out in time, and he highly doubted that his had been Victor’s intention anyway.

When he finally felt able to pry his eyes open, he found Victor still on his knees, leaning back on his heels, wiping his mouth with gusto before he gave Yuuri an absolutely complacent smile.

“You are _a waste_ in a straight relationship! Jesus!!” Yuuri was still out of breath. “Get up here and kiss me!”

He held out one hand to help Victor stand up. Even their kisses sounded loud and wet in the shower cabin, and now Victor’s heavy breathing and sounds of pleasure echoed from the tiled walls when Yuuri gripped his neglected cock, hard and leaking from giving Yuuri the best blowjob of Yuuri’s entire life, and finished him off with a couple of quick strokes. Yuuri turned the water back on and they finally had that shower, laughing and teasing while trying to wash, as much as that is possible when sharing the shower with a gorgeous naked person one fancies.

They stumbled from the bathroom eventually, each wearing a _yukata_ Yuuri had brought from Japan. The dogs were overjoyed to see them, and cuddles were distributed in between making coffee and toast.

Getting dressed took forever because they were constantly seeking each other’s touch, pulled together like magnets. When they walked the dogs they held hands constantly, stopping for kisses time and again until they were breathless or until one but mostly two bored poodles were tugging on their leash, eager to go on.

As soon as they returned, they were back in Yuuri’s bed and naked.

It felt decadent, lying in bed in the middle of the day. Yuuri was flat on his back, one hand in Victor’s hair when he could reach, while Victor took his damned sweet time exploring and kissing every inch of his body. It felt different from the night before. This time it was broad daylight. There was nothing and nowhere to hide. Victor seemed absolutely confident being naked around him, Yuuri had already noticed. He couldn’t say the same of himself, and time and again he squirmed a little with embarrassment, especially because Victor took pleasure in telling him exactly what he liked about certain parts of his body and the reactions of arousal he was able to bring forth touching them.

Yuuri pulled Victor into a heated wet kiss when he crawled up on his body and settled between his spread legs. Yuuri’s face was burning all the way up to the tips of his ears after Victor’s low, husky live commentary while he had been stretching and preparing him, pointing out just how well he was taking his fingers.

“Tell me what you want, Yuuri,” Victor moaned against his mouth.

Yuuri wrapped his arms tighter around his neck, rocked his hips into him. “Fuck me, please, Victor.”

“You want that?”

“Yes.”

“How much?”

“Like there’s no tomorrow.”

Victor was buried inside of him to the hilt in one smooth movement.

Their hands entwined on the bed as they moved together, Yuuri arching his back into Victor’s thrusts, legs wrapped around Victor’s waist to feel him deeper. Their eyes locked, faces always close together, sharing breathless kisses while strands of hair were plastered to damp faces and mutual sounds of pleasure filled the room. Yuuri made a gruff sound of complaint when Victor suddenly stopped moving. His brows furrowed.

Victor shook his head very faintly, smiling down at him. “I love looking at you… like this.”

Good thing he was already lying flat on his back, Yuuri thought, for this would have been the moment to get there otherwise. “I always love looking at you,” he said and smoothed disheveled hair from Victor’s face.

It didn’t take much from there to Victor shuddering in his arms and collapsing on top of him, Yuuri holding on tight to him, unwilling to let go until their frantic heartbeats had calmed down. When Victor finally rolled off of him and lay beside him on his back, their faces turned towards each other on the bed. They smiled widely at each other.

“We’re a mess,” Yuuri beamed.

“We are.”

“It was worth it.”

“Absolutely.” Victor sighed, a deep, satisfied smile, and got up. “I’ll get a cloth from the bathroom.”

“Top drawer of the laundry cabinet,” Yuuri called after him, shifting slightly on the bed so that he could get the best view of Victor’s naked backside heading over to the bathroom. While he waited for Victor to come back, he reached for his phone on the bedside table and found he had a message.

**_Phichit_ **

_Please tell me you got laid and Victor is still there._

Grinning from one ear to the other, he quickly typed a reply.

_I got laid and Victor is still here._

His phone buzzed almost instantly with an incoming message.

**_Phichit_ **

_That’s my boy!_

_Do me proud, Katsu-damn!_

“So how is Phichit?” Victor asked when he came back from the bathroom and saw Yuuri laughing and putting his phone back on the bedside table. He sat down on the edge of the bed.

“Fine.” Yuuri didn’t even ask how he knew. Victor always knew too many things about him.

He watched, breath hitching in his throat, how Victor wiped his chest and stomach where Yuuri had come between their bodies with a warm, wet cloth, every swipe a tender caress. He had clearly taken care of cleaning up himself in the bathroom already because Yuuri couldn’t see anything but taut muscle and smooth skin.

As soon as Victor came back from throwing the cloth in the laundry basket in the bathroom, he crawled back into bed and cuddled up close. Yuuri pulled the blanket up to their waist, arms wrapped around Victor, one hand lazily skimming across Victor’s back.

“This is beautiful,” Victor said, pointing his chin at a large framed picture on the opposite wall from Yuuri’s bed. It showed the coastline of Hasetsu in the evening. More than half of the left side of the picture was taken up by the sea, a beach walk curving slightly alongside it. To the right of the beach, houses with the lights on in almost every window sat snug behind a row of trees. In the distance, Hasetsu Castle towered over the city like a beacon.

Yuuri hummed low in his throat.

“Yuuri. When was the last time you visited home?” Victor propped himself up on one elbow, looking up at Yuuri’s face.

“Not since I started working here,” Yuuri admitted. Saying it like this, it sounded like an eternity.

“More than two years,” Victor mused. “That’s a long time.”

“When I started this job, I didn’t think it would be appropriate to take a longer holiday.” Yuuri sighed. “And going to see my family… it’s not something I want to do for just two weeks. It would be worth my whole vacation time of one year. That’s a lot over here, so much more than you would ever get in Japan. And then I guess I just missed the right moment as more and more time passed.”

“Have they ever visited you?”

Yuuri shook his head.

“Not even in the States when you went to college?” Victor’s eyes widened.

“They can’t leave the onsen.” Yuuri smiled, though it felt a little sad to himself, as much as it had to be looking to Victor just now. “It’s the last hot spring resort left in Hasetsu, all the others have closed down over the years as businesses slowed down all over Southern Japan.”

“Do you miss them?” Victor tilted his head.

“It’s okay with video calls these days.” Yuuri shrugged. “They are really proud of me. My taking several weeks off from work to come see them would seem so… inappropriate to them.”

He heaved a huge sigh. “I miss my mother’s cooking though. I have all her recipes, and I always follow every single step meticulously… and it still never tastes like home.”

“I never does, doesn’t it?” Victor smiled wistfully. “So... Mari. Does she have a boyfriend? Girlfriend?”

“You remember my sister’s name.” Yuuri’s eyes widened.

“You told me.”

Their conversation in Milan was suddenly vivid between them again, a memory settling over the both of them like a comfortable blanket.

“Once. I told you once. But I guess I shouldn’t be surprised.” He smiled. “You never forget a name.”

“It must be my superpower. Some people can do those diagram things, I’m good with names.” Victor shifted so that his head came to rest in the crook of Yuuri’s arm.

“Bar charts.”

“Hm?”

“They’re called bar charts.” Yuuri grinned.

“I’m afraid knowing _their_ name won’t help me there, Yuuri. They’ll still hate me.”

They laughed.

“So, Mari?” Victor started drawing fantasy figures over Yuuri’s chest with his fingertips.

“There’s nobody now that I know of,” Yuuri mused. “When she was younger, it was different. I told you about the boyfriends I would tease her about, the kissing ashtrays. She works a lot, helping my parents around the onsen.”

Yuuri reached for his phone with one hand and propped it up on his chest, opening the gallery to call up some pictures of his family to show Victor.

"You look like your mother.” Victor smiled.

“Everyone says so.” Yuuri smiled fondly at the screen. “Unfortunately I’ve inherited her metabolism too. I gain weight really fast if I don’t pay attention. I hate that.”

“Yuuuuri! Don’t you dare insult this perfect and utterly adorable stomach!” Under the blanket, Victor’s hand caressed Yuuri’s stomach. Yuuri squirmed, and then blushed when Victor slipped lower under the blanket to shower Yuuri’s stomach with kisses and announce he would just love it for the both of them if Yuuri didn’t.

“Victoruuu…” He sounded exasperated. With Victor back up in his arms, he scrolled through some more pictures.

“This is Minako, a close friend of the family. Something like… a godmother, you could say. Actually!” He chuckled. “It’s Minako’s fault that I’m even here. She was a ballerina and brought home an assortment of biscuits and chocolates from one of her tours in Europe.”

“Crispino and Giacometti chocolates?” Victor grinned. “You never told me.”

“I know!” Yuuri laughed. “I said I would, wouldn’t I?”

“That day we found out about the Japanese delegation wanting to come.”

“Yeah.”

Time stood still for a moment as they each thought of everything that had happened since then.

“Let’s just say I’ve been a die-hard Crispino & Giacometti fanboy since then,” Yuuri stated. "Since the day Minako brought home those chocolates."

“As deputy CEO of Crispino & Giacometti, I am extremely happy to hear that.” Victor grinned.

They fell silent, looking at some more of the photos Yuuri called up on his phone.

“I look like my mother, too, apparently.” Victor’s words came unexpected.

Yuuri put his phone away. His hand resumed caressing Victor’s back very gently. Comforting. On his chest, he watched Victor’s fingers drawing more figures as if drawing strength. Wondering if Victor could feel how his heart was beating faster with excitement. Victor had never spoken about his parents, not since telling him that they died when he was very small that first Bollywood night.

“There aren’t many pictures, and most of them are in black and white. She was a ballerina at the Bolshoi, with Lilia. And... well, fuck me sideways!” Victor suddenly sat up in bed.

“That sounds very tempting, but for now I’d prefer it if we keep talking. Maybe later.” Yuuri gave him a wink, a reassuring smile. Victor gave him a playful slap.

“She was engaged. When she met my father, she was engaged to someone else. Talk about history repeating itself.”

Yuuri pulled him back down onto his chest. He didn’t want to be reminded of Victor’s engagement now.

“One night when we were 16, Yakov took Chris and me drinking. Maybe some kind of rite of passage thing, who knows what’s on Yakov’s mind, except for maybe Lilia. Chris and I were idiots, we were mostly excited at the prospect of getting drunk. But actually that was the only time I heard Yakov really talk about my father. They must have had the kind of friendship Chris and I have, Yakov and my father. Knew each other since they were children. I think they were both very poor as children. As in, ‘not having enough food to eat' poor. So they always worked. Tried to make something of themselves. And then they celebrated one of their first big business deals with tickets to the Bolshoi and fuck knows how they managed it, but they talked their way backstage and met those two ballerinas. Now, I love Yakov with all my heart but I’ve seen pictures of them when they were young and I don’t think it was Yakov’s gruff charms and horrible fashion sense that got them backstage at the Bolshoi.”

Yuuri laughed softly along with Victor.

“If your father was anything like you I am not surprised your mother left her fiancé to be with him.”

Victor took the hand Yuuri had lying on his own chest and squeezed his fingers tight at his words.

“I think Yakov still mourns my father. He never had a close friend again, not like I have Chris or you have Phichit. And my mother… she never danced again after they had me. It wasn’t exactly the thing a Bolshoi ballerina did, walk out on a prestigious job and engagement, marry some up-and-coming businessman, ruin the body she worked so hard for all her life to get pregnant, have a child… Yakov and Lilia tell me that they were happiest then. My parents. When they had me.”

“They would have been mad not to be happiest then.” Yuuri was surprised at how choked he sounded.

Victor squeezed his hand even tighter. Yuuri was surprised that when Victor placed a kiss on his chest, right above his heart, his very heart didn’t jump out to knock Victor unconscious. He felt it so acutely.

“I hate that I have no memories of them. That I only know them from those faded old pictures. My mother was tall and lithe, with very fair hair. But I’ve got my father’s eyes. Maybe that’s why I wanted to have long hair for a while. To have... _something_ of my parents, something else than just their name.”

“Oh yeah, that...” Yuuri murmured nonchalantly.

Victor propped himself up on Yuuri’s chest again and looked up with a sudden spark in his eyes.

“Do you like my long hair, Yuuri?” His smile was mischievous.

“I... haven’t really thought about it much,” Yuuri said.

Victor watched him for a moment through narrowed eyes, contemplating.

“Oh yes, you have,” he finally said. His grin was the very definition of sly. “What do you think of my long hair, Yuuri?”

“It was… nice.” Yuuri tried a serious face. He would never, ever, tell Victor what he really thought or had dreamed or fantasised about his long hair. Never on this day at least.

Victor gasped. He placed one hand on his heart like he had been deadly wounded and fell onto his back beside Yuuri on the bed. Yuuri laughed and gave him a playful shove.

“Chris had long hair too for some time, you know.” Victor propped himself up on one elbow.

Yuuri turned his head to look at him. “I don’t believe you.”

“He did! He had this beach bum, surfer dude hair with an undercut. Sometimes he tied it onto a man bun.”

“ _uso!”_ Yuuri exclaimed. “You will show me pictures or I will never believe that!”

“Okay.” Victor beamed. “All the pictures you want, Yuuri.”

They dragged themselves out of bed after a whole afternoon of talking and cuddles and kisses. Yuuri made bento boxes for both of them, with Victor wrapped around his back whenever he stood still. They ate leftover pizza for dinner, splayed out on the sofa with two poodles draped over their entangled legs.

But as much as they both dreaded and hated it, evening did come and they found themselves by the door.

Yuuri took a deep breath that felt and sounded like it was going to split his chest, his heart was so heavy.

“This is going to sound really pathetic and whiney now, but then I guess I can get away with it seeing as who I’m talking to…”

“Yuuuuri! What’s that supposed to mean?” Victor pouted.

“This.” Yuuri laughed and hugged Victor tight. “Exactly this. This ridiculous, pouty way you have of saying that, it just drives me crazy in so many ways.”

“I hope good ways!” Victor huffed and tossed his bangs for good measure.

Yuuri giggled. “And this, too. Mostly good ways.”

“Mostly,” Victor deadpanned.

“A little silly perhaps? And a lot adorable. A whole lot adorable.”

Victor rested his forehead against Yuuri’s.

“I don’t want you to go. That’s what I was actually trying to say before we got into discussing your ridiculous… _ly_ adorable little quirks.” Yuuri corrected himself when he saw Victor’s eyebrows climb.

“I don’t want to go.” Victor heaved an equally deep sigh. He cupped Yuuri’s face with both hands and kissed him, a long, lingering kiss that expressed the mutual wish to just have this weekend last forever in every stroke of tongue. They finally broke apart, faces still close together.

“See you tomorrow at work, Mr Katsuki.”

“Bright and early, Mr Nikiforov.”

“I’ll expect you in my office to take dictation.”

“I’m sure you do.”

They smiled. Kissed again. And once more for good measure.

Yuuri waited in the open door until the lift doors had closed, Vicchan sitting attentively by his feet.

Back inside his bedroom his phone started ringing.

Probably Phichit, to say he was home and ask if it was safe to come over, Yuuri thought. He closed the door and went to retrieve his phone from his bedroom.

“What now?” he asked when he picked up after a glance at the display.

“I forgot to say ‘Thank you,’”

Smiling, Yuuri slumped down in the sofa corner. “What did we—“

“Nonsense! I dare say this weekend established that we are more than just friends so you might as well let me say it.”

“Okay then.” Yuuri patted the couch beside him and Vicchan jumped up and curled up in his lap.

“I had the best time.”

“Me too.”

“Thank you.”

“Thank _you_.”

“You flatter me.”

“You flatter _yourself_.”

The cheerful laughter down the line set Yuuri off too.

“See you in seven and a half hours.”

“I can’t believe you actually know that.”

“ _You_ don’t?”

“I’m not the biggest sap in the world, unlike some people. But I think Vicchan needs to go out again for a moment, and I’ve yet to pick out my clothes for tomorrow and see if Phichit is safely home, so I’m afraid I’ll have to cut you off. And it’s not seven and a half hours, it’s seven hours and twenty-two minutes.”

“Wow! Even better!”

“Text me when you’re home?”

“Who’s the sap now?”

“I worry mostly about Makka being out this late. It’s way past her bedtime.”

“Only seven hours and twenty minutes now, Yuuri.”

“Goodnight, Victor.”

“Sleep well, my darling.”

Yuuri put away his phone and slid down on the couch. Smiling. Knowing that he would not sleep for one second. For the first time in his life Monday morning couldn’t come soon enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jeez, they ~~rode~~ worked me hard this week. Horny saps. I love them.


	9. Love Supreme

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Boys in love go to the office. Boys in love have a lot of sex. 
> 
> Sometimes even both at the same time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What can I say? I think there's more filth in this chapter than in the last one. They fancy each other so hard. Bring water again, it's still hot in here.
> 
> I'm quoting a song in here and I'm quoting it in its original German because the lyrics are more powerful. I'm providing the English translation in the end notes. There _is_ an English version of this song but those lyrics are shite and have nothing to do with the German ones at all. 
> 
> You will probably want to skin me alive at the end of this chapter. Just saying. I'm sorry. Remember that all will be well! 
> 
> There are about one thousand words in this chapter that I consider one of the most beautiful, intense pieces I have ever written. I blame Kam completely for this and I love her even more for enabling me. 💝 
> 
> Remember I love these boys! Remember I love you! Remember I love happy endings!

**9 – Love Supreme**

Yuuri took Vicchan on their run an hour earlier than he normally would, shivering in chilly morning air that already made small white clouds appear in front of his mouth when he breathed. He hadn’t been able to sleep much, texting late into the night with Victor until Victor had fallen asleep. The rest of the night he had clung to his pillows, reliving the weekend in his mind over and over again, suddenly scared he wouldn’t be able to remember every single moment.

When they came back in, Vicchan let out a bark just as they stepped out of the lift. Yuuri quietly called him to order. Even though the neighbours on their floor were mostly his friends, he couldn’t imagine they would be happy about his dog barking in the hallway at five o’clock in the morning. Much to his surprise his phone buzzed just as he had closed the door behind them and taken off his running shoes, jacket halfway unzipped. For a brief moment his heart skipped wildly in his chest thinking that it might be Victor, but it was actually Guang Hong.

_I’m up already. Want to drop Vicchan off early and have coffee?_

Yuuri’s eyes wandered to the door involuntarily as if he could see Guang Hong’s door down the hall through it. He must have heard the lift and Vicchan’s excited bark before Yuuri had been able to silence him.

He sent Guang Hong a quick text back that he would love to take him up on his offer and headed for the shower. The moment he stepped into the shower cabin the memories of the previous morning caught up with him like arms wrapped around his body from out of nowhere, crushing him to an invisible chest. It was almost physically painful, feeling that he was alone here now. His body reacted to the memories, heat prickling instantly under his skin, and his hand wandered almost automatically down on his body under the warm spray. He squeezed his eyes shut as he braced one arm on the shower wall and leaned his forehead against the tiles, body slightly curved in on himself as his hand worked his cock to full hardness. His chest rose and fell with the staccato of his breathing, his mind calling up the feeling of Victor above him, inside him, stretching and filling him like his own cock filled his fist just now. He wished Victor to be there with him again, with his mouth around him, and the thought of thrusting his cock between Victor’s lips made him tremble and spill hot all over his hand, spurts of cum washed away immediately by the shower as he murmured Victor’s name quietly against the shower wall like a sad sound of longing.

A tiny mischievous voice inside his head made him briefly think about texting Victor what exactly he had just done thinking about him in his shower, but he restrained himself. Once his teeth were brushed he got dressed, picking a thin cream-coloured turtleneck with three quarter length sleeves, the only top he owned for this season that would cover the massive hickey Victor has sucked into the column of his neck yesterday morning. He made breakfast and fed Vicchan, and the memories of Victor moving around so comfortably in his whole apartment made his chest feel tight in a really weird way he couldn’t put his finger on.

A short time later he texted Guang Hong that he was heading over so he wouldn’t have to wake up Leo ringing the doorbell. Leo liked his sleep, he was like Yuuri in that respect. Yuuri under normal circumstances, that was. The door opened as Yuuri and Vicchan walked across the hall, Guang Hong peeking out looking slightly worse for wear. They snuck inside, Vicchan scooting off to the living room right away where he knew he would find Shi, a cuddly doggy sofa, and lots of toys.

“You look like you haven’t slept much. Paris that good?” Yuuri grinned as he pulled out a chair for himself at the head of the kitchen table. Guang Hong’s apartment looked pretty much the same as his own, only mirror-inverted. The kitchen was an open area adjoining the living room, a small hallway leading off to the bathroom and bedroom on the left instead of on the right like at Yuuri’s.

Guang Hong laughed quietly as he poured coffee into two mugs and joined Yuuri at the table, sitting down to his right and pushing a mug of steaming coffee his way.

“Thank you.” Yuuri’s grin widened when Guang Hong tried to hide a yawn behind his hand.

“I know what you’re thinking.” Guang Hong blushed a little. “But we saw more of Paris than just our hotel room, you know.”

“I know.” Yuuri drank a first sip of coffee, appreciating the taste with a low hum. “I saw your Instagram feed.”

Guang Hong cast a cautious glance towards the small hallway with the two doors in Yuuri’s back, but all was quiet in the apartment behind them. Still, he leaned in very close, his voice almost a whisper.

“I couldn’t do it.” He rolled his eyes. “Every time I wanted to, something didn’t work out. And there are so many people on that fucking Eiffel Tower! Bloody Asian tourists everywhere!”

“I’m sorry for all my besotted countrymen unknowingly boycotting your romantic endeavours.” Yuuri smiled.

“Yours and my own.” Guang Hong sighed dramatically. They snickered.

“And I think…” Another glance at the bedroom door. Guang Hong moved in just a little more. “I think Leo is planning something of his own.”

“I told you!” Yuuri, mirroring the action, brought his head a little closer in a conspiratorial manner. “I’m sure Peach knows something, but he’s as evasive about Leo’s secret as I am about yours.”

They jumped apart and quickly reached for their coffee mugs when the bedroom door opened behind Yuuri, but the sound was followed right away by the bathroom door being opened and closed.

Guang Hong exhaled a breath he had been holding. They quietly sipped their coffee for a moment. Finally Guang Hong grinned.

“You look happy,” he said quietly. Just that, but it had Yuuri flushing crimson.

“I feel weird though…” Yuuri admitted.

Behind them in the bathroom, the sound of running water was heard as the shower was turned on.

“Here.” Yuuri brought one fist to his chest. “It feels like there’s a rock lying there. Like I feel too much.”

“Did that start last night by any chance?” Guang Hong asked, head tilted just the slightest bit.

“Yeah…” Yuuri’s reply was more of a sigh, though his eyes widened with slight surprise.

Guang Hong drank a sip of coffee before he spoke. “When Leo and I got together and spent the first couple of nights with each other, and then when he had to go home, just for a change of clothes, just for a couple of hours, I suddenly felt like that. My chest felt really tight. I think there was just too much to feel, you know. So much had happened in just such a short time. Suddenly so many longings are fulfilled, and then when you lose that again, it’s overwhelming. You start getting afraid of losing every single little moment. And the first night on my own again, without him… fuck! It really freaked me out how quickly you can miss a person beside you even when you’ve sleeping alone for the longest time before that.”

Yuuri hummed thoughtfully over his coffee mug.

“Sometimes one night is all it takes.” Guang Hong smiled. “One weekend.”

Yuuri drank. Swallowed. Looked up. Met his friend’s gaze and that smile of his that was so much older and wiser than he was in years.

“It’s okay, you don’t need to tell me anything. Phichit probably has exclusive rights on your love life.”

It made Yuuri laugh. “I’m _dying_ to tell someone, Guang Hong!” he finally burst out. “How about… I give you the rough outline and Peach gets the details first?”

“Whatever works for you.” Guang Hong grinned. “You look happy.”

“I am. When you and Leo spent your first weekend together… what did you do?”

“We had sex.” The reply came without hesitation. “A lot of it. Don’t tell me you and Victor played Scrabble.”

Yuuri almost snorted and quickly swallowed the coffee in his mouth before he spat it across the table. “Unless that’s some new slang for shagging each other silly that I haven’t heard of, we did not play Scrabble.”

They laughed, barely hearing over it how doors were opened and closed behind them again.

“And we talked,” Yuuri said, as the laughter ceased. “About our families. Victor, he… did you know his parents died when he was too young to remember them?”

“I’ve heard something like that, yeah. Yakov and Lilia took him in and raised him.” Guang Hong nodded.

“I can’t even begin to tell you _what_ that makes me feel. I thought it would rip the heart out of my chest. I know Yakov and Lilia probably gave him everything he could possibly have wanted and more, but when I let my mind run away with it I cannot stop thinking about that little boy without parents. He hates that he has no memory of them, that he only knows them from pictures. And then he said he knows from Yakov and Lilia that his parents were happiest when they had him and I just… fuck!” He took a deep breath that sounded choked. 

Guang Hong looked as teary-eyed as he looked giddy over his coffee mug, much like Yuuri was feeling inside.

“I’ve always hated the thought of him being sad the most,” Yuuri confessed. “I’ve never told anyone, not him, not Peach. The thought that Victor is sad, and alone, is the worst for me, Guang Hong. After his engagement was called off, I couldn’t sleep some nights because I caught myself thinking about him, wondering if he was feeling lonely, wanting to call him just to let him know that… I’m thinking of him. That I’m _there_. I want to move mountains if that could stop him feeling sad. Do you know what he did when he told me that thing about his parents being the happiest when they had him and I said they would have been mad not to?”

Guang Hong put down his mug and buried his face in his hands when Yuuri told him.

“Yuuri, you’re going to make me cry. Aren’t you glad that it happened like this? That you didn’t end up going home together drunk from the club?”

Yuuri groaned. “You know about that. I wasn’t sure if Phichit blabbed.”

“Of course he blabbed,” came a voice from behind them and Leo stepped into the kitchen, dressed in jeans and a black polo shirt, hair still wet from the shower. “Morning, Yuuri.”

“Morning Leo.” Yuuri smiled into his coffee when Leo bent down to kiss Guang Hong, not forgetting the trademark smile and “Hey babe!” that was _always_ there when he saw his boyfriend. Leo poured himself a mug of coffee and sat down beside Guang Hong. He looked across the table at Yuuri, a knowing smile on his face.

“So. First Weekend, huh?”

Yuuri nodded.

“Fond memories.” Leo sighed. “When you dance around each other all day, all those small gestures and cuddles, and in the evening, after the movie, there’s that moment when you look at each other and time stands still - and next thing you know you’re all over each other.”

He looked at Guang Hong. “The only thing that I regret. That I’ll never have First Weekend again with you.”

Guang Hong blushed. Yuuri focussed on his coffee. Even though he knew them so well, he always felt a little like an intruder when these two were lost in a world of their own for a moment.

“How will you handle this in the office?” Leo asked Yuuri. “You both have the subtlety of a sledgehammer.”

“What?” Yuuri exclaimed open-mouthed. Guang Hong snickered audibly.

“Yeah.” Leo drank his coffee, looking like what he had said was the most obvious thing in the world. “Just showing it differently. Victor will fall all over himself in the way he speaks to you, probably even touch you. You know, hugs and stuff. _You_ on the other hand will blush and get a little snarky pretending to brush him off, while you secretly try to get in as many glances at him as possible, thinking nobody will notice because you’re trying really hard to hide it.”

“You never do, Yuuri.” Guang Hong smiled softly. “You never manage to hide it. We’ve seen the way you look at him.”

“We’ve seen the way you look at each other,” Leo clarified. “Many, many Friday nights long.”

Yuuri looked from one to the other, speechless.

“This is very comforting to know,” he finally said, tone seeping with irony, and reached for his coffee mug like for support.

“By the way, we bumped into Chris in Paris. In that fancy restaurant he recommended to me. He was there with that waste of space.” Leo grimaced at having to mention Chris’ lover. “Made Chris order all the finest things from the menu. You probably won’t have to wait for Chris to come in today, I’m guessing waste of space paid him back in naturals accordingly.”

“That is… disgusting, yet sadly appropriate,” Yuuri murmured.

“Mhm. Looks like deputy CEO Nikiforov is taking over the wheel then today.” Guang Hong smirked. “He’ll expect you in his office for dictation, Yuuri.” He wriggled his eyebrows meaningfully.

“That’s what _he_ said,” Yuuri grinned.

“That’s dick-tation, with a ‘k’, right?” Leo smirked over his coffee cup.

Yuuri flushed crimson. He placed his empty coffee mug on the table and rose from his chair.

“Time to go to work, Leo.”

“I know, I know, you can’t wait to get to work today.” Leo laughed and finished his coffee, already halfway up from his seat. “Did you make him a bento?”

“Leo,” Guang Hong reprimanded patiently. He shook his head in Yuuri’s direction like an apology.

“It’s okay,” Yuuri said. “This is probably what awaits me in the office anyway.”

“Peach is going in later today,” Leo said as he slung the strap of his laptop bag over his head. “He got back late from that photo assignment he did, so it’s just the two of us today.”

“Thank god for small mercies.” Yuuri snorted.

He took a quick detour to the living room to say goodbye to Vicchan and thanked Guang Hong for the coffee before he picked up his messenger bag and the bento bag in the hallway and headed out for work with Leo.

Victor’s door was closed when Yuuri stepped out of the lift, but he could see the lights on inside his office through the glass above his door. His heart instantly did a somersault, but he tried to reign in his facial expressions because from the look on the trainees’ faces alone he could guess that they were suspicious. God, he hoped Victor hadn’t _said_ anything! He went about his usual morning routines, not forgetting to put the bento boxes in the fridge before he went to fetch the mail, and making sure not to glance at Victor’s door in passing. They probably should have talked about how they were going to handle this at work, but somehow that had seemed such a trivial issue compared to everything else they had talked and texted about.

Yuuri left the mail on his desk and headed for the kitchen to make his ritual cup of tea.

“Good morning, Yuuri!” Steph was standing by the coffee machine when he came in. She burst into an even bigger smile than she usually sported at the sight of him.

“Good morning.” Yuuri closed the kitchen door before it could slam shut. As he took his usual tea mug from the cupboard he noticed a preserving jar in Steph’s hands. The red and white checkered lid had a slit punched through it with a knife from what it looked like to Yuuri. A jar filled with a considerable amount of notes and coins that jingled quietly as Steph moved it in her hands, looking as if she was trying to guess how much exactly was in it. With the winning smile on her face she looked like the cat that got the cream.

Yuuri felt a weird premonition creep up inside him.

“Is somebody’s birthday coming up?” he asked and filled the kettle with water. “Or are we chipping in for someone’s wedding?”

He hadn’t expected Steph to burst out laughing. “I guess we’ll see about _that_ ,” she replied, her blue eyes dancing with wickedness behind her dark-rimmed glasses.

“This, Yuuri.” She lifted up the glass in her hand and shook it around for good measure. “Is my pay-off from the bets we had riding on who would date first - you and Victor, or Luca and I.”

“What!” Yuuri was surprised he got even as much as that one word out, he felt all the words knocked out of him for good measure.

The door opened and Luca came into the kitchen. At the sight of the glass in Steph’s hand a broad grin spread across his handsome face.

“Thank god, we can finally date!” He placed one arm around Steph and breathed a kiss in her hair. Yuuri couldn’t deny that they made a stunning couple, the difference in height only adding to the charm.

“You’ve been holding off dating because you had money riding on this?” he asked in disbelief.

“Yuuri, we’re lawyers.” Steph laughed. “Josef Karpisek trained us himself. Of course we waited that one out!”

“Wow.” Yuuri shook his head, trying to come to terms. He switched the kettle on again for another attempt at his forgotten cup of tea. Suddenly a thought struck him and his head shot around to Steph and Luca.

“Please tell me Phichit was not involved in this particular betting pool!”

“Actually…” Steph looked up at Luca, both of them suddenly timid, and Yuuri groaned quietly.

“At least tell me he didn’t _start_ it??”

“Actually…” Luca let go of Steph to start looking for a coffee cup like it was the most important task in his life, ever. Yuuri groaned again, not so quietly this time. His best friend had a lot to answer for.

He finally made his tea, nodding to Steph and Luca when they left the kitchen with coffee and Steph’s glass of winnings. Then Yuuri made a cup of coffee and arranged it on a tray with his tea and some chocolate biscuits. He tried to ignore the half hidden grins of the two trainees at reception as he carried the tray past them and opened the door to Victor’s office, using his elbow to push the door handle down. He could feel the change inside him immediately the moment the door swung open. The giddiness in his chest, much like his heart wanted to jump out and do cartwheels. The smile that he felt was too big for his face.

The sound of the voice alone rolled over him like a caress. Victor was on the phone, he guessed to Chris from the casual way he addressed scheduled meetings, using swear words and banter, plus the way he rolled his eyes at the phone for Yuuri’s benefit the moment Yuuri turned around.

They smiled at each other across Victor’s desk.

Yuuri kicked the door shut with his foot and walked over to the small coffee table by the sofa where he set down the tray and took Victor’s coffee and the plate of biscuits from it. He walked around the front of Victor’s desk again until he came up by his right side and started moving some papers out of the way to be able to put the coffee and biscuits down.

“Chris, I’ll call you back later, I have to go,” Victor said and put down the phone.

Yuuri drew in a sharp breath when he felt himself grabbed and pulled onto Victor’s lap unexpectedly.

“Good morning, Yuuri.” Victor beamed at him, arms wrapped tight around Yuuri’s waist.

“Hi.” Smiling, Yuuri leaned in for a kiss. They stayed like this for a moment, hugging in Victor’s office chair, though when Victor’s sneakily grabbed Yuuri’s arse Yuuri thought it safer to get up and drink his tea on the couch.

“Did you know our colleagues had bets running on us dating first or Steph and Luca?” Yuuri asked as he reached for his tea mug.

“They did??” Victor lowered his coffee. “I wish I’d known, I would have put my money on us!”

“What?” Yuuri was glad he had no tea in his mouth yet, he would spluttered it over his front for sure.

“Yuuri, they’re lawyers. They would have waited that one out until the end of time!” Victor laughed and drank a sip of coffee.

“I don’t believe this!” Yuuri shook his head before he drank. “So.”

Victor looked up at Yuuri’s business voice, half a chocolate biscuit in his mouth, the other still in his hand.

“Chris is still in Paris, I guess we should go over his appointments because you’ll be doing them?”

“We probably should.” Victor sighed.

Yuuri smiled at him over his tea mug.

“Always so efficient, Yuuri…” Victor moved his chair closer to his desk again and changed the coffee cup to his other hand so that he could call up his calendar on screen and open Chris’ beside it.

They went over Chris’ appointments, Victor pointing out which ones Chris wanted him to do for him and which ones were to be moved. Yuuri rose from the sofa to grab a notepad and pen from Victor’s desk, pausing behind Victor for a moment to peer at the computer screen over his shoulder.

“So, this appointment tomorrow is an important one.” Victor reached for another biscuit. “We want to come away with a deal. We might also get to sample lots of treats while we’re there, Chris says they’re really keen on getting their cheese under our organic range’s seal.”

“I can’t wait.” Yuuri moved in closer across the desk, squinting at the screen as he reached for the mouse and clicked onto an appointment in Chris’ diary to change the date by one week. Victor leaned his head against Yuuri’s outstretched arm for a moment, too long for it to be an accidental brush. Yuuri remained in this position a little longer, hands stilled on the mouse. Finally he drew back his arm and straightened up, though he didn’t move away from the desk before brushing one hand gently across Victor’s back.

When he collected the empty coffee cup from Victor’s desk shortly afterwards they sneaked in a kiss or three, Yuuri claiming there were some chocolate biscuit crumbs left in the corner of Victor’s mouth (there weren’t) and Victor insisting Yuuri overlooked some on purpose to kiss him again (he did).

“Yuuri?”

Yuuri swung around by the door before opening it.

“Leave the door open,” Victor said, the words _So I can see you._ hanging unspoken in the air.

Yuuri smiled as he left Victor’s office, leaving the door wide open.

After sorting the used cups in the dishwasher, Yuuri updated Chris’ appointments, then opened and sorted the mail. He certainly did not look over at Victor at his desk more than he would normally do on any other work day, and he most definitely did not count how many times they ended up just staring and smiling at each other until one of them looked away (it was twelve times). The internal messenger window popped up as Yuuri was sorting Chris’ mail into a folder for him to read when he came back.

**Victor Nikiforov**

**_online_ **

_so_

_lunch date?_

**Yuuri Katsuki**

**_online_ **

_???_

_I made bento_

_you were there_

**Victor Nikiforov**

**_online_ **

_Yuuuuuuri!_

_that’s what I meant_

_will you have lunch with me on the roof?_

**Yuuri Katsuki**

**_online_ **

_of course!_

A second chat window popped up on his computer screen.

**Phichit Chulanont**

**_online_ **

_will I see you tonight or will you be with lover boy?_

**Yuuri Katsuki**

**_online_ **

_I don’t know_

_we haven’t made any plans_

**Phichit Chulanont**

**_online_ **

_Chris is still in Paris with waste of space, isn’t he?_

_Yuuri, you can make out in your fancy bathroom up there!_

**Victor Nikiforov**

**_online_ **

**♥︎**

**Yuuri Katsuki**

**_online_ **

_I AM NOT GOING TO MAKE OUT WITH VICTOR IN THE OFFICE BATHROOM, PHICHIT!!!!!!_

**Victor Nikiforov**

**_online_ **

_YUUUUUUUURI!!!!!!!_

_WHY NOT?????!!!!!!!!!_

**Yuuri Katsuki**

**_online_ **

_crap! wrong chat window_

_…_

_and how did you manage to get that heart symbol in there anyway?_

_you can’t do a simple bar chart but you can type the heart symbol??_

**Victor Nikiforov**

**_online_ **

_I can after half an hour of meticulous googling_

♥︎

Yuuri took a screenshot of his chat window with Victor and pasted it into his chat with Phichit. Looking up, he saw Victor laughing behind his computer screen.

**Yuuri Katsuki**

**_online_ **

_this just happened!_

**Phichit Chulanont**

**_online_ **

_LMFAO!!!!!!!_

_and I thought Victor was the one who’s hopeless with computers_

On lunch break they sat facing each other on the low concrete pillars on the roof, in Yuuri’s favourite hiding place round the wall behind the door, each with a bento box in their lap. Yuuri waited until he was halfway through his food before he addressed something that had been on his mind since Phichit’s message popped up on his screen in the morning.

“Victor…” He stopped eating. Poked around his lunch with his chopsticks until he picked up a piece of teriyaki chicken. “Don’t take this the wrong way, _I’m_ not asking, and I personally couldn’t care less because in my opinion it’s bullshit, but… I’m seeing Phichit tonight and _he’s_ going to ask, and I don’t know what—”

“Yes.” Victor looked at him with his head slightly tilted. “You can tell him yes, if you want.”

Yuuri gaped, chopsticks paused mid air. “How did you know what…”

“Because that’s what friends always ask, no?” Victor shrugged. “At this point? The infamous ‘And are you together now?’”

Yuuri groaned. And realised that he could probably consider himself lucky that Leo hadn’t already asked him that in the car on the way to work. With Guang Hong, Yuuri was sure he was on the same page as him at least. These kind of things didn’t matter to Guang Hong, he had an instinctive approach to relationships and trusted in letting them work out without talking them down into all the tiny bits and pieces.

“I hate that!” Yuuri swallowed down the chicken and pierced a slice of Japanese omelette rather viciously with his chopsticks. “As if there was a fixed moment when you decide: now. From now on we are a couple. Why can’t people just leave you alone and let things work out for you or not?”

Victor was just looking at him, his lips pressed together. He let him ramble on, the bento in his lap forgotten.

“So, um… I just wanted you to know. That it’s not _me_ asking. It’s fine for me… like it is, I mean. I’m happy to just see where this is going and having a good time, and enjoying every moment. If we just get to know each other and see each other when we do. I won’t ask for a timetable or fixed date nights or any stupid rules to follow as to what has to happen when, or what exactly you’re supposed to feel at a certain point. Because I believe all that is crap, and nobody who’s not in your shoes should be entitled to have a say in these things, just… dammit, Victor, how much longer are you going to let me embarrass myself?!” Yuuri huffed.

“Oh, go on a little bit more, you’re so cute when you’re flustered.” Victor finally let out the amused laughter he had been holding in all throughout Yuuri’s agitated little speech.

“It’s okay, Yuuri.” He became serious. “I know Phichit. And if he says anything to Sara, I will have her on my back this afternoon, too, asking me the very same question. I guess we should have seen that coming.”

“So, for the record…” Yuuri started again.

“You tell Phichit what you’re most comfortable with,” Victor said quietly. “If you want _my_ opinion… I would be honoured if you told everyone who wants to hear it or not that we’re dating.”

“Victoruu…” Yuuri murmured and looked down at his bento box, poking around in the rice, while a faint blush crept into his cheeks and the corners of his mouth were twitching with the force of many smiles wanting to come out all at once.

“So…”

Yuuri looked up when Victor started talking again after a while of them eating in comfortable silence.

“You’ve got plans with Phichit tonight?” Victor was watching him with his head cocked to one side.

“I, uh… I’m sorry.” Yuuri put the pickled cabbage he had been about to eat back down. He felt a blush coming on. “We didn’t talk about when we’d next see each other, and Peach, well. He’s dying to grill me for details. I might as well get it over and done with.”

“Yuuri.” Victor laughed quietly and shook his head. “Don’t apologize. It’s fine if you want to hang out with Phichit. And we really didn’t make any plans.”

He paused for a moment. “How about Wednesday? Are you free on Wednesday?”

Yuuri lowered his chopsticks. “Are you asking me out?”

Victor laughed some more. “Yes, Yuuri, I’m asking you out. Can I take you on a date on Wednesday?”

“Okay.” Yuuri smiled, pink cheeks and shining eyes.

“Okay.” Victor smiled back, heart-shaped and happy.

When they came back inside from lunch break, they looked distinctly flustered and kissed out, all messy hair and crooked ties. Their colleagues had the grace not to comment and to grin and roll their eyes unnoticed.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

That evening, Victor was lying on his sofa with Makkachin across his body.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he told her. “What could I have said, Makka?”

He buried his hands in the fur behind her ears, petting her for good measure while she looked at him with her tongue hanging out. Victor sighed. It seemed to come from the very bottom of his heart.

“I want nothing more than tell Yuuri we’re together, and if it’s up to me this won’t change for a long, long time. But I have to tell him about that bet. As long as I haven’t got that out of the way and he hears it from someone else… and you know what a stupid idiot Chris can be, Makka.”

She gave a low bark as if for confirmation, and Victor laughed.

“That’s right, my darling girl. We cannot trust Chris in this respect. I want to tell Yuuri myself, and I don’t know how. I just feel like I cannot say to him in good conscience that we’re together unless he knows. He’d feel betrayed if he ever found out from someone else. He’d always think I wanted to get close to him because of that stupid bet.”

He lay back on the sofa, staring at the ceiling with one arm under his head. Makka, sensing his distress, lay her head on his chest, just below his chin, and looked at him. Victor sighed. “I don’t know how to tell him. I love every moment I spend with him, and I’m terrified of losing what we have now just because I was a stupid idiot. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Having Yuuri here? Double the cuddles for you, and a little friend to play with.”

He reached for his phone from the coffee table and went though an email that had arrived earlier. Victor typed a reply to the event manager while telling Makka all about the date he was setting up for Yuuri as a surprise and how he was hoping it really would be one of the last sunny, warm evenings so they would be able to pull this off. Hoping Yuuri would be so swept off his feet by having one of this favourite movie moments recreated that he could be convinced that Victor’s stupid bet with Chris, which was long over, had nothing to do with what Victor felt about him. Makka listened to his ramblings with her usual stoic patience and that adorable expression on her face that always seemed to Victor like she was smiling.

“Let’s send Yuuri a selfie, shall we?” Victor asked her eventually.

He took about ten pictures of the two of them until he decided on one to send to Yuuri. Then he got up to pour himself another glass of white wine in the kitchen.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“So. Are you together now?”

Phichit looked across the sofa at Yuuri. They were sitting at opposite ends again, legs touching between them in the middle, alcohol-free cocktails Phichit had insisted on mixing for the occasion in their hands.

Yuuri stared at the different layers of orange in the round-bodied glass in his hand for a moment.

“Does that matter?” he asked back when he looked up.

“Does it not?” Phichit’s voice was neutral as he drank from his Virgin Sunrise.

Yuuri remembered what Victor had told him he could say. It still gave him the happiest buzz in this stomach and all the way up to his heart and to his mouth where it made him smile like a thousand suns, but he decided to go with his own opinion here.

“It’s good as it is, Peach. It’s really, really good. Why can’t we just spend time together and enjoy, and see where it goes? It’s not messing around, Peach, even I can see that this is mutual. I don’t want to answer questions. Does there have to be moment defined when you say: Okay, as of now, we are together?”

Phichit pondered over Yuuri’s words for a moment. At last he nodded.

“Fair enough.” A cheeky grin appeared on his face. “Now tell me all about the sex!”

“Phichit!” Blushing, Yuuri kicked lightly at his legs.

“Yuuri! I haven’t got laid for the longest time, I need to live vicariously through you. It’s paragraph eight in the best friend agreement you signed.”

“I never signed no such thing!” Yuuri laughed.

“You did, Yuuri, you just don’t remember because I made you sign it when you were drunk!”

He held his glass safely above his head when Yuuri reached for the fateful sofa cushion to trow at him.

“Okay,” Phichit said some time and several proud exclamations of “That’s my boy!” later, after he’d wrestled some details out of Yuuri and called him a lucky sod more than once. He got up from the sofa and took Yuuri’s empty glass from him as he passed him.

“I’m going to the bathroom now, and then I’m going to hang around your mirror cabinet for a while and try out all your expensive Japanese products, so that you can write Victor that message you’ve been dying to send for the last hour.”

He grinned, dancing out of the way when Yuuri, blushing and laughing at the same time, reached for the sofa cushion once more and told Phichit he’d better mix them some more of those mocktails instead.

“And hand over all your winnings from that betting pool to me!” Yuuri called after him. “You won that money unfairly, with all the insider knowledge you had!”

He heard Phichit laughing until the bathroom door closed behind his best friend.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Victor’s phone buzzed with an incoming message. Opening it, he saw a selfie of Yuuri covering his face with Vicchan. Victor laughed, pouted, and typed a reply:

**_Victor_ **

_Yuuuuri! Let me see your beautiful face!_

Yuuri’s answer was prompt.

**_Yuuri_ **

_Stop pouting. You’ll see me tomorrow at work._

“He knows me so well, Makka.” Victor put his phone away to cuddle the poodle again. “I’m afraid. I’m so, _so_ afraid of him bolting when he knows about the bet.”

Another message came later, when Victor was already in bed, Makkachin by his side.

**_Yuuri_ **

_It feels weird to be alone again in my bed after this weekend…_

Victor’s breath caught a little in his throat when he saw an incoming image. Just Yuuri’s face, lying in bed judging from the angle. And the words that came with it.

**_Yuuri_ **

_I miss you._

“Shit, Makka.” Victor sighed. “What am I going to do? I can’t lose this. I can’t lose _him_.”

His heart jumped in his chest when there was yet another message. A link to you a YouTube video with just a song. Victor stared at Yuuri’s message for a long time before he clicked ‘Play’.

**_Yuuri_ **

_This had me thinking about you a lot over the past couple of weeks._

He was up for a long time, listening to the song over and over again in the darkness, smiling and aching to think that Yuuri would have thought about him, relating to the words of this song. Victor could see why. He remembered Yuuri taking care of him before but especially after the engagement was called off. Yuuri being his friend. This was Yuuri admitting that he wanted to fill the loneliness in Victor’s life, just not with his own words.

_Ich fühl dein Herz, es ist einsam so wie du... Lass dich fallen, mach die Augen zu… Hey, die Welt hält für dich an hier in meinem Arm_

_Wenn du suchst und dich selbst dabei verlierst, dann find ich dich und hol dich zu mir… Für einen Tag, für eine Nacht, für einen Moment, in dem du lachst_

_Fühlst du mich, wenn du atmest? Fühlst du mich, wenn niemand da ist? Fühlst du mich?_

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Yuuri almost overslept the next morning, grateful for Vicchan waking him up after he’d pressed the snooze button twice when his alarm went off. Surprised that his tiredness had finally caught up with him he hurried Vicchan through their run, had a quick shower and got dressed. The two tailored suits he had been measured for and commissioned in Milan with Victor had arrived a little while ago, including a card with the sweetest message from Andrea, but there hadn’t been an opportunity to wear them yet.

The meeting today finally seemed appropriate.

Yuuri chose the black suit, classy, timeless black being the colour he had always wanted his first custom-made suit to be. He put on a crispy white dress shirt with a high collar that would just about hide the mark Victor had left on his neck. Yuuri forewent the tie, knowing how much Victor would love to tie it for him. His heart beat faster for a moment when he realised that this time they would not need to turn away flustered when that moment arrived again, that perfect-for-a-kiss moment whenever Victor tied his tie for him. All he had to remember was to close the door.

Having a quick breakfast standing up by the kitchen table he remembered his phone he hadn’t paid attention to since falling out of bed due to rushing around. He did a double take when he looked at the display and saw the message from Victor. Just three words, sent sometime after 3 A.M.

_I feel you._

Yuuri had to sit down for a moment.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The office was deserted when they returned late on Tuesday afternoon. Walking side by side they were still talking about the meeting, giddy with the adrenaline of a successful business deal accomplished and the buzz of new ideas. Yuuri wouldn’t have believed it before but the new suit did make a difference. All day he’d been feeling like he was carrying himself differently. He had seen Victor’s smug grin though, so he had kept quiet about it. Victor was still proud enough of that shopping spree he had taken Yuuri on as it was.

Yuuri was already loosening his tie as he followed Victor into his office, laughing about one particularly witty slide in the company’s presentation which had really won them over. Victor turned around to face him when they entered his office and their eyes met. For one moment, everything froze. Then they rushed at each other. The door slammed shut and Yuuri found himself with his back against it, drawing Victor into a hungry kiss, grinding against him where Victor had slipped one of his legs between Yuuri’s and stepped as close as he possibly could. Eager hands worked quickly to get suit jackets off, and shirts hastily unbuttoned.

“Yuuri… Yuuri… Yuuri…” Victor kept repeating his name against his throat like a chant, yanking the tie down and the shirt collar out of the way as much as possible so he could latch his mouth onto tender skin. He pulled Yuuri’s tie off and threw it carelessly somewhere behind him. His mouth came back up for more kisses, partly by his own free will, partly because Yuuri’s hands were fisted in his hair and tugging his head into this particular direction. 

“You know what I’ve wanted to do all day?” Victor groaned out between two kisses.

“What?” Yuuri didn’t wait for an answer, he merely pulled Victor into another open-mouthed, wet kiss.

Besides, the way Victor thrust his tongue hungrily into his mouth was a pretty clear indication. Next thing Yuuri knew, Victor dropped to his knees in front of him. Yuuri cursed low under this breath, twisting his head lightly back against the door. Victor’s hands were already making quick work of the button and zipper of his black suit pants. Cool air hit his bare thighs the next moment when his pants dropped to his feet, before he felt Victor’s hands digging into his thighs and heard his voice murmuring low praise and how jealous he had been, having to watch Yuuri’s thighs getting measured for this very suit without being allowed to touch.

“I’ve been thinking about ravishing you in this suit.” Victor looked up at him, eyes dark with desire.

“The hell you will,” Yuuri told him. “This suit cost me a month’s salary, as you well know.”

He might as well have been talking to the floor, because Victor hooked his fingers into the waistband of his underpants and yanked them down until they pooled by Yuuri’s ankles with his pants.

Yuuri’s hands searched for some kind of hold against the door, but there was none. So he buried one hand in Victor’s hair, sliding the other under his unbuttoned shirt to work his nipples between his fingertips as he threw his head back against the door again, eyes squeezed shut and breathing obscenely loud and wet. He didn’t think he would last very long, Victor’s mouth was too hot, too greedy, sucking him deep, firm tongue swirling the whole length with just the right amount of pressure, accompanied by lewd wet noises that were as intoxicating as they were obscene.

Yuuri saved them both the warning this time, just came in Victor’s mouth like he knew Victor wanted him to, moaning quietly through the eager way Victor milked him dry with gently suction, then lapped him clean with softest kitten licks before he released Yuuri’s cock from his mouth. Looking down, Yuuri saw that infuriatingly complacent smirk on Victor’s face again. He smiled faintly down at him.

“Get my pants back up again, please?” Yuuri asked, still breathless. “I don’t want to stand here looking like a ridiculous idiot with his pants around his ankles.”

“Yuuuuri! I want to see you!”

“Victor! Pants! Up!” Yuuri glared at him. He had no strength left in him for a round two. Victor pouted for good measure, but did as he was told, not without making Yuuri squirm and blush as he tucked him back into his underpants and placed a kiss on his now limp cock through the fabric like a replay of Saturday night. He zipped him up, then accepted Yuuri’s hand in helping him up to his feet.

Planting his hands on the door left and right of Yuuri’s head, he leaned in until their foreheads touched. Yuuri smiled at him, the familiar sparks dancing in his eyes.

“I’ve wanted you to suck me off in this suit since I put in on this morning.”

“Well, _I’ve_ wanted to suck you off in this suit since I commissioned it in Milan.”

Yuuri decided to overlook the little slip and let Victor believe _he_ had commissioned this suit. In a way, he had, too.

“Always have to have the final say, Nikiforov,” Yuuri murmured against his mouth, exasperated.

“Always!” Victor smirked and shut him up, making Yuuri taste himself on Victor’s tongue and moan into his mouth.

Yuuri watched Victor, following him with his eyes while he still had his head resting back against the door, just glad about the support. Victor walked slowly over towards his sofa. He looked back over his shoulder at Yuuri, a sultry glance that kept Yuuri’s breathing at a faster pace. Very slowly, Victor turned around. Yuuri watched Victor’s hands come up to unbutton his pants, pull the zipper down very slowly, while he shook the bangs from his face and pinned Yuuri to the door with a glance that said _We’re not done here yet._

Yuuri groaned quietly. He watched Victor sit back in the corner of his pristine office sofa looking like the devil personified, silver hair a mess, his dress shirt open and wearing the marks Yuuri had left there a few days ago like a prize. The sleek blue suit pants already open, he was currently sliding one of his hands over the bulge straining out between the folds of the zipper, his other hand resting casually on the armrest of the sofa.

“Better take off your fancy suit, my darling, unless you want lube and other stains all over it.” Victor’s voice was a purr.

“ _You_ can pay for the dry cleaning,” Yuuri grinned down at him, “and explain the stains to them.”

“Oh, it will be my pleasure.” Victor laughed. “I will tell them, loud and proud.”

“I don’t doubt this for one second.”

Yuuri couldn’t draw his eyes away from Victor’s hand lazily palming himself. He peeled himself off the door and stepped a little way into the room, reaching for the front of his pants with both hands.

“Turn around.” Victor smiled at him, suggestive, and Yuuri understood immediately.

The cheek of him! Yuuri’s eyes narrowed, defiance and the will not to go down without a fight searing up in him. If Victor wanted a show, he would give him one. His back on Victor, he stepped out of his shoes and kicked them to the side. Instead of looking at him over his shoulder, Yuuri merely threw back his head, exposing his throat to an invisible lover, while he unbuttoned and unzipped his pants. He heard Victor’s quiet moan from the sofa in his back, felt his eyes on him, and a wicked smile burst onto Yuuri’s face.

He hooked his fingers into his underpants as well as his pants and bent over to take them off together.

Behind him, Victor cursed.

Getting his socks off along with his pants felt like an accomplishment. When Yuuri came back up and turned around, he moaned. Victor had pushed his underwear down as much as possible. One fist around his cock, he was stroking himself slowly. Their eyes locked across the small distance.

Yuuri’s already unbuttoned shirt was last to go. He let the sides slide down his shoulders and dropped it on the floor just in front of the couch before he planted one knee beside Victor’s thigh on the seat and climbed naked into his lap, pushing Victor further back into the upholstery in doing so. Victor’s hands gripped his hips almost instantly and Yuuri wrapped both arms around his neck and brought his face down for a hungry kiss, moving his tongue as fluidly as his body. They broke apart, breathing fast and smiling at each other. In a joint effort, they wrestled Victor’s pants down this thighs and over his knees, Yuuri moving impatiently in Victor’s lap.

“Your hips and what you do with them will kill me.” Victor sounded like a man in great pain.

Yuuri smiled a timid smile that completely belied the stars dancing in his eyes and the way he moved sensually against Victor, or the fact that he was already hard again.

“My _hips_?”

He asked almost innocently as he reached down with one hand and brought it around both their cocks, aligning them and sliding his fingers slowly up and down, smirking at the breath hitching in Victor’s throat.

Victor started kissing his way down Yuuri’s throat and collarbone, and Yuuri rose slightly on his knees to give him better access. He bent backwards, safe in the hold of Victor’s arms supporting his back, brought his own arms back so he could support himself with his hands on Victor’s knees. Victor leaned into the motion, raining kisses over Yuuri’s chest until his lips found one perky nipple and starting sucking hard until Yuuri moaned and grew more restless. Picking up on his reaction, Victor moved to the other nipple, working it even harder with his tongue, grazing his teeth very gently over the hard nub, until Yuuri softly cried out.

Victor brought them both back against the sofa back, sighing happily against Yuuri’s neck before he lifted his head to look up and reached into the space between the removable sofa cushion and the seat.

Yuuri stilled above him, eyes and mouth wide open when he saw the condoms and lube in Victor’s hand.

“You hid _that_ under _there_???” Yuuri asked disbelievingly. “When?! What if someone found it?”

Victor pulled him into a kiss, more to shut him up than anything else, Yuuri reckoned.

“I put it there when I saw you walking in in this suit this morning.” Victor chuckled. “Just in case.”

Yuuri snorted, but laughed against his mouth. “ _Baka_ ,” he murmured.

“What does that mean?” Victor asked curiously, but Yuuri shook his head.

“Yuuuuri!”

“Shut up and touch me!” Yuuri wound one arm against Victor’s neck again and kissed him deeply. Reaching down, he pried Victor’s other hand free from his hip and brought it up to their faces. He broke the kiss and sucked two of Victor’s fingers into his mouth instead. Blue eyes shot wide open as Victor watched him do it across the small distance between their faces. Yuuri looked at him from under his lashes as he swirled his tongue around Victor’s fingers and sucked them deep, smiling around the digits when he heard Victor moan quietly, saw the burning need in his eyes, felt him growing harder in the hand he had wrapped around Victor’s cock between them now. 

Just a short while later, some quiet and more perhaps not so quiet sounds of pleasure resounded through the room. Their eyes never broke contact once as Yuuri lowered himself down slowly on Victor’s cock, his hands holding on to Victor’s shoulders as he rose and fell in his lap, meeting each of Victor’s upward thrusts with slamming down, making them both moan from the depth, the closeness. Yuuri’s arms wound closer around Victor’s neck for support and he brought his face down in the curve of his neck, panting against damp skin and adding moisture, kissing and lapping wherever the unbuttoned shirt hanging loosely off Victor’s shoulder allowed him to. Bending backwards again he moved his upper body into the touch of Victor’s eager mouth, begging to have him sucking on him again until he moved faster in his lap from the sensation of Victor’s mouth working his nipples, Victor fucking into him so deliciously. When he reached between their bodies for his cock, he found Victor’s hand already there. A quick smile passed between them, and Victor leaned back into the sofa, holding Yuuri’s back firmly with one arm. Yuuri looked down between their bodies and uttered a quiet groan at the sight of both their hands on his cock. He gripped the base and stretched just enough that he covered the length his fingers reached. Victor’s slender fingers circling the upper part, the thick head glistening with pre-cum, looked so arousing that Yuuri caught a whimper in the back of his throat.

“Let’s try something,” Victor murmured without looking up. He placed his hand on top of Yuuri’s, pulling it a little further down towards the base and directing his hand to careful twisting motions. Then he wrapped his own hand around the upper part, mirroring the motions but in the opposite direction.

It drove Yuuri crazy. The assault on all his senses was too much. Victor inside him, and the heat of their skin, Victor’s eyes as he tried to hold on to his gaze until it became too intimate and they had to bury their faces against each other’s shoulders, the taste of salt on sweaty skin, erratic breathing and low moans, both of their hands working his cock. It took him but a couple of frantic thrusts and strokes until he dug his nails into Victor’s back and came hard, painting their chests and stomachs, spilling over their joint hands.

Victor held him, both his arms wound around Yuuri’s back as they tried to catch their breath, Yuuri whispering overwhelmed gibberish into Victor’s ear while Victor murmured in a soothing deep voice, telling him how beautiful he was, how good he made him feel.

At long last, dusk already creeping across the sky outside the windows, they stirred. Yuuri leaned back with his hands interlaced in the back of Victor’s neck, Victor’s cock still limp between his butt cheeks. It was becoming a bit of an uncomfortable mess, but he didn’t want to move from Victor’s lap.

“Well, this shirt is ruined.” Victor looked down at his chest and stomach, the lube stains where he had wiped his hand earlier.

“Sorry…” Yuuri offered. It was more of a giggle than a word.

Victor wrapped his arms tight around him again and let his face drop against Yuuri’s throat. For a moment they just stayed like this, catching their breath, holding each other close.

“Yuuri.”

Victor leaned back so that he was able to see Yuuri’s face. He raised his hands and began running them up and down Yuuri’s arms. All of a sudden he seemed nervous.

“Please stay over at my place tonight?”

Yuuri went very still. His hands came up to Victor’s face, fingertips caressing like he held the most precious artefact in his hands. “I’d love to,” he replied, his whole face bursting into smile.

“Oh thank god, I would go mad if I had to spend another night without you!” Victor actually heaved a sigh of relief that Yuuri could feel echoing in himself.

“You and me both,” he murmured, and felt himself blushing. “Can we go round my place so I can get a change of clothes?”

Smiling, Victor cupped Yuuri’s face with one hand. Ran his thumb over his bottom lip. “Of course.”

They stopped by Guang Hong’s apartment to say Hello and check that it was okay if he kept Vicchan over night, and Victor happily sat on Guang Hong’s living room floor playing with Vicchan and Shi while Yuuri changed out of this suit, had a quick shower, and packed a small overnight bag. In the car over to Victor’s apartment they looked and smiled at each other whenever it was safe for Victor to avert his eyes from the road, Victor’s hand brushing Yuuri’s thigh occasionally.

Victor lived in one of the modern apartment buildings in the newer parts of the city. The park where they met up with the dogs on weekends was really just around the corner, Yuuri noticed as they arrived. They took the lift straight from the underground car park, kissing and holding hands in the small cabin, Yuuri hoping that the security camera was only a prop.

Victor’s apartment was on one of the top floors, and the open, light space was pretty much what Yuuri had expected. From the layout of the hallway outside and the fact that there was just one other door outside which was opposite Victor’s, Yuuri guessed very strongly that the whole floor plan had been cut in half by the hallway, with one large apartment on each side.

Makkachin, who had been brought home just before by the dog sitter after a quick message from Victor that they were on their way, came bolting from the living room when she heard the door open. Yuuri dropped everything immediately to catch her in his arms, laughing when she seemed as enthusiastic to see him as he was to see her. Victor watched them from the living room entrance, a huge smile on his face.

The inside hallway was long yet narrow, giving space for not much more than a coat rack, a mirror at the end of it, and a sideboard on which Victor put his keys. It opened into a huge living room, not with a door but with a spacious arch cut out of the wall. Three doors were leading away from the living room, all of them closed.

A huge floor-to-ceiling window to the left led outside to a spacious, canopied balcony, possibly going all around the side of the building from what Yuuri could see. It was already dark, but Yuuri still couldn’t resist opening the door and stepping outside. He saw some plants in huge terracotta pots, selected pieces of tasteful outdoor furniture, a barbecue grill, a doggy bed and, strangely enough, one of those hooded white wicker beach chairs Yuuri had seen in countless European seaside pictures and postcards. It was positioned between two windows and looked expensive, with dark wooden panels and drawers at the bottom, a wide awning, blue and white striped canvas, and cushions that looked invitingly comfortable.

“That one was a gift from Chris.” He swung around at the sound of Victor’s voice.

Victor was leaning with his back against the railing, the city lights in his back. “But Makka and I quite like sitting there enjoying the view.”

“What’s this room?” Yuuri pointed at another window he could see on the other side of the beach chair.

“The kitchen. It has a door to the balcony too, which comes in handy for bringing out all the food for parties.”

Yuuri hummed quietly to himself. The balcony was closed off at the end of the wall.

They went back inside and Victor pointed out the other rooms leading off from the living room - kitchen, bathroom, and bedroom. The latter seemed to be huge, but Yuuri guessed, and the thought made him a little giddy, that he would find out soon enough.

“No study?” Yuuri grinned, knowing Victor was very much against taking work home.

“I have a small home office in my bedroom. Not that I use it much. Work is…”

“For the office, I know. You always say so.” Yuuri smiled.

He walked over to where Victor was standing by a huge comfortable looking sofa and wrapped his arms around his waist. Victor placed his arms around him right away and breathed a kiss against his temple.

“Want me to order in dinner?” he asked.

“Why don’t I cook instead?” Yuuri asked. Neither of them had moved.

“Yuuri! You want to cook me dinner?”

Yuuri wriggled out of the embrace to look at him. “Let me see your fridge and I’ll tell you what I can whip up.”

“Yuuuuri! That sounded naughty!” Victor winked, overtly dramatic.

“It did not. That’s just you wishful thinking.” Laughing, Yuuri already walked over to the kitchen and switched on the light. It was spacious, too, with modern white cabinets and a vast assortment of utensils, a white wooden table by the wall with two matching chairs and two additional stools pushed underneath. A couple of potted herbs sat on the window sill, and Yuuri snickered when he saw there was a chain of poodle-shaped fairy lights strung across the window. Yuuri couldn’t resist to switch it on before he opened the large fridge and quickly scanned the contents.

“You’ve got pasta, I assume?” He looked around the fridge door asking Victor, who was watching him from the doorway.

“Of course I do, it’s—“

“I’ll find it.” Yuuri smiled.

“Okay. Can I be rude and leave you to it for a moment while I go shower?”

“Of course.” Yuuri laughed.

He found his way round Victor’s kitchen easily enough, opening and closing cupboard doors until he found what he needed, putting out some bacon and fancy parmesan cheese from the fridge. When he discovered a bag of frozen peas in the freezer he chuckled quietly to himself and looked over to the herbs in the window, remembering the pasta dish Victor had ordered in the restaurant in Milan. He found a whole drawer full of pasta in all shapes and sizes, including some that resembled the small pasta tubes of that night’s dish, so he decided to recreate it as much as he could. Makka came to join him in the kitchen and he talked to her over tossing vegetables together for a side salad and grating parmesan cheese.

Victor came back as he was stirring the grated cheese into the pasta in the pan, bringing everything together to a creamy ensemble. He leaned back into Victor’s arms for a moment, smiling when Victor rested his chin on his shoulder and watched him for a bit until Yuuri told him to sit down and maybe pour them a glass of wine. Yuuri divided the pasta between two plates and arranged fresh herbs from the window sill on top.

They had dinner at the kitchen table, laughing and talking over food and wine, and afterwards Victor insisted on doing the dishes because Yuuri had cooked. So Yuuri remained seated at the table, nipping at his glass of wine, reaching down to pet Makka and watching Victor in his plain white T-shirt and black sweats that hugged his arse so tight that Yuuri wanted to touch, so badly. When Victor hung the tea towel on the hook by the sink and turned around, Yuuri rose to his feet in one fluid movement and put his wine glass down on the table without ceremony.

He was in Victor’s arms within a second, kissing him in the middle of his kitchen looking at fairy lights in the shape of poodles, one hand on Victor’s butt, and he didn’t think he had felt happier for the longest time.

“So… would you like to see my bedroom now, Mr Katsuki?” Victor asked, breathless between two kisses.

Yuuri smirked against his lips. “I thought you’d never ask.”

Yuuri didn’t usually like dark colours in bedrooms but in Victor’s it worked surprisingly well. The black leather frame and high headboard of the king-sized box spring bed looked very elegant with the greys and whites in the room. There was a large fluffy cream-coloured carpet covering the larger part of grey floor, and a stylish light grey bedside table stood on each side of the bed. Lights were strategically placed on the walls and the ceiling, and Yuuri snorted quietly and shook his head when Victor used a small remote control to dim the bedroom lights to some spots shedding a soft light from above the bed.

A row of four large joined silver panels behind the bed separated the sleeping area from the walk-in wardrobe and small home office. There was a thick wooden board inserted low in one nook like a sideboard, empty except for a large white vase for decoration. Two squares of wall were painted dark behind it among the otherwise white walls, a very fine line drawn horizontally across the wall in the nook. Some small picture frames on the wall showed black and white pictures of Victor and Makka.

The windows were large, and there was a door leading outside to a second balcony. Another door led directly to the bathroom from the bedroom.

Yuuri didn’t get to explore the room any further, for the next thing he knew he was back in Victor’s arms and they were kissing, hungry, lingering, hands tugging and pulling shirts out of the way. Pants and underwear followed, clothes left strewn carelessly on the bedroom floor while they rolled around Victor’s bed unwilling to let even the smallest distance come between them, like it was the law of all early days. Telling each other in quiet murmurs how crazy they were about each other, words turning to kisses turning to touches, turning to heat and arousal and the certainty that they could tell each other everything.

“I had dreams about you… for months.” Yuuri pressed his face into Victor’s collarbone, knowing he was flaming red with embarrassment.

“Is that so?” Victor brought his hand under Yuuri’s chin, forcing him gently to look at him. “What did you dream about then, my darling?”

There was more than just curiosity in Victor’s expression. Need. Desire. Trust. Surrender.

Yuuri swallowed hard. “Why don’t I show you?”

He got on all fours and looked back at Victor over his shoulder through half-lidded eyes.

Victor groaned. “Where did this come from?” His voiced was deeper, laced with arousal.

“Milan, I… you took this guy apart in the meeting, and I… I wanted you to take _me_ apart, too.”

“Wow.” Victor gulped. “I don’t know how well I can do that because as you might have noticed I’m completely besotted with you, but I’ll try my best.”

“I can tell you something about cost cutting and outsourcing if that helps.” Yuuri shot him a cheeky smile over his shoulder.

“Keep being a brat like this, that might work too.”

Chuckling, Victor leaned over him, his chest against Yuuri’s back, wrapping both arms tight around Yuuri’s chest for a moment, moving with him as Yuuri tried pushing back against him. When he released his embrace Yuuri sighed his disapproval and the sentiment resounded deep within Victor. He murmured against Yuuri’s skin, praising his beauty, licking and sucking his way down his back while his hand dug deep into his hips. Victor only let go when his mouth had reached the small of Yuuri’s back. He let the tip of his tongue dart into the cleft between Yuuri’s butt cheeks, which had Yuuri twitching and hissing.

“I’ve been dreaming about this arse.”

Victor’s voice was dark with lust, reverberating against the plush curve of Yuuri’s butt, and Yuuri moaned out loud at the feeling of Victor’s hands kneading his cheeks and parting them, the feel of Victor’s hot breath over his hole.

“What…” Yuuri struggled to get the words out, he was so breathless. “What did you dream about?”

Victor moaned against his skin, and it felt so erotic Yuuri pushed back eagerly.

“Why don’t _I_ show _you_?” Victor repeated Yuuri’s earlier words back to him and bent his head down while at the same time he spread his cheeks even wider for better access.

Yuuri cried out at the first stroke of tongue. He remembered what Victor had done to him in the shower and earlier in the office with his mouth, and it made him eagerly push back into Victor’s face. Dropping his head for a moment, he closed his eyes, giving himself over to Victor’s mouth completely. His hands fisted in the sheets under him and he knew he was loud, but he just couldn’t stop voicing the acute pleasure searing through his body. He felt like Victor was doing art in his most intimate places, painted patterns with the tip of his tongue, then ran the flat of his tongue over everything and washed it away with firm hot wetness. He tickled his hole with the tip until he had Yuuri begging and then pushed inside as deep as he could go, fucking him with his tongue while his fingers dug deep into the reddening plush cheeks of Yuuri’s butt.

Yuuri arched his back and rocked back frantically, moaning Victor’s name like he had forgotten everything else. He sounded vulgar, as vulgar as the wet sounds of Victor’s mouth eating him out like it was the best thing he had ever done in his life. Victor’s warm openmouthed breathing on him had Yuuri trembling with anticipation, and he cried out again under the next assault of Victor’s tongue working inside his clenching heat. He was painfully hard under the administrations of Victor’s mouth, and every time he felt him licking him good from back to front, coming dangerously close to his balls, he wished so fervently he could fuck into his mouth that it made his cock pulse angrily against his stomach. 

“Please…” Yuuri keened out the words like a feverish person. “Please fuck me, Victor! _Please!_ ”

He let out a regretful whimper that seemed to come from deep down inside him when Victor’s mouth and hands left his arse. The next moment Victor was leaning over him, covering his body thigh to thigh, chest to his back, one hand on his hip, the other grabbing Yuuri’s hair and pulling his head up and back towards him.

“How did you want it?” Victor’s voice was a deep rasp agains his ear, accompanied by hot breath that made Yuuri’s skin tingle. “When you thought about me… how did you want me, Yuuri?”

“Hard and fast, Victor. As hard and dirty as you can.”

Victor let go of Yuuri’s hair and brought his hand around to his chest instead, pinching one nipple and rolling it hard between two fingers. Yuuri moaned out loud with lust, demanding more, and when Victor’s other hand come round to his other nipple, he cried out from the pleasurable pain he brought forth.

“Dirty, hm?” Victor moaned into his ear.

Yuuri nodded eagerly, head thrown back.

He protested when Victor moved away from him, then watched, looking back over his shoulder, how he squeezed a generous amount of lube over his fingers and started rubbing them between Yuuri’s cheeks, pushing one in without hesitation. Spurred on by Yuuri’s needy request for more he added a second one almost immediately, groaning quietly when he watched his fingers slip inside that beautiful aroused body, stretching and working the tight heat open with quiet squelching sounds.

“Now, Victor, please, I’m ready!” Yuuri sounded in pain, chasing Victor’s fingers with erratic movements of his arse pushing back. Victor leaned over him again, pressing the weight of his chest into the damp-from-sweat skin of Yuuri’s back.

“Did I make you scream? In your dreams?” Victor kissed the skin behind Yuuri’s ear, nipped on his earlobe with closed lips, his voice nothing but a hoarse whisper that went straight into Yuuri’s system like a drug.

“Fuck, yes!” Yuuri rubbed himself against Victor’s erection, eager to have that where Victor’s fingers were.

Victor removed his fingers, wiped his hand on the sheets and reached for a condom and more lube.

Once again he leaned down, kissing his way up Yuuri’s back in doing so, until his hands gripped Yuuri’s hips.

“Scream for me then, my darling,” he moaned. “Let’s make your dreams come true.”

Victor wasn’t gentle when he thrust into the waiting heat of Yuuri’s body, but Yuuri was ready, and how. He moaned out Victor’s name like a prayer of gratitude and gave himself over to being fucked into next century. Victor set a fast pace right from the start, trying to shake damp silver bangs from his forehead so he could see the arch of Yuuri’s back and the flow of Yuuri’s body as he found a rhythm to move with him, push back as they slammed together. He watched his own cock disappear back inside Yuuri’s perfect arse and the visual only added to the sensation of the tight clenching heat that gripped him. The noise of skin slapping hard on skin mingled with his own moaning and panting and the whole coloratura of Yuuri’s lustful screams of pleasure.

It was maddening, like a rush, like nothing Victor had ever experienced before. Yuuri might have been the one on the receiving end but he demanded everything from Victor. Squeezing the base of his cock between his thumb and forefinger from time to time to make sure he stayed hard, Victor tried to brush Yuuri’s sweet spot with every stroke and bring forth more of those bewitching high-pitched moans and whimpers. It just wasn’t enough, he felt, would perhaps never be enough. His hands gripped Yuuri’s hips tight and he started pulling Yuuri back onto his cock rather than just pounding into him, both hands locked around Yuuri’s waist as he moved at a relentless pace that took everything out of him.

Yuuri felt sweat cover his forehead, his whole body. His hair stuck damp to his forehead and he was beginning to feel sore and aching but he still couldn’t get enough of Victor pounding so hard and fast into him as if there was nowhere else to go for him but to be buried deep inside Yuuri. Victor knelt back on the bed and pulled Yuuri roughly into his lap with every thrust, and Yuuri adjusted to the new angle, rising on his knees until his fingers just about still touched the bed beneath him, back bending gracefully into the hungry wet kisses Victor started to shower all over his shoulder blades and the column of his spine. Yuuri threw back his head and hoped he looked as ecstatic as he felt, panting heavily with his mouth open, face contorted with pleasure and perhaps just the slightest edge of pain because Victor used him so well and it was even better than he had imagined all those months ago when he first started wishing for this. Mirror, he thought, Victor needed a mirror in his bedroom so they could watch themselves like this. The thought made his own cock only quiver more angrily with neglect but Yuuri refrained from touching himself. Coming from just Victor fucking hard and fast into him had been one of his most obsessive fantasies for a long time, he would be damned not to try and make that happen, now that he was so close.

Victor felt reduced to mindless moving, aching all over from he strain, grunting quietly as he moved and spared a silent thought of thanks to all those hours working himself beyond the point of endurance on the treadmill without which he was suddenly sure he wouldn’t be able to keep up with Yuuri. He felt his orgasm hit him rather unexpectedly but harder than he had reckoned with, and his hands held Yuuri’s hips still as he rode it out in rhythmic long strokes along Yuuri’s inner walls. He faintly heard Yuuri crying out through the blood pounding in his ears. Feeling spent and utterly boneless, Victor pushed Yuuri’s upper body carefully down towards the bed by pressing one hand down on his back. Yuuri collapsed on the mattress, and Victor collapsed on top of him, limp cock bare between Yuuri’s butt cheeks as he pressed himself up close against him after quickly discarding the condom.

“I’m sorry.” Yuuri’s voice sounded hoarse.

“About what?” Victor closed his eyes against Yuuri’s shoulder and couldn’t resist darting out the tip of his tongue to lap up some of the delicious sweat glistening on Yuuri’s skin. It made Yuuri twitch with pleasure under him.

“I kind of… messed up your fancy sheets.” Turning his face sideways towards Victor’s, Yuuri gave him a cute sheepish smile that looked erotically indecent on someone who had just begged at the top of his voice to be fucked from here to another galaxy and screamed the place down with ecstasy. How he went to _this_ from utterly beguiling sex god, Victor was way too tired to think about right here and now.

He chuckled. It made him ache all over from exhaustion. “Yuuri, you came without being touched. Don’t ever say sorry for that again, the blow to my ego is too severe.”

Yuuri, too, laughed softly, the motion rocking both their bodies gently, the sound music to Victor’s ears. Yuuri shifted around a bit underneath him, just so that he could find Victor’s hands to his left and right on the bed and lace his fingers around Victor’s as best as he could reach.

“God.” Victor groaned. “I would love to cuddle but I can’t move. I think you broke me.”

“I hope not.” Again, Yuuri’s soft laughter that played Victor’s heartstrings like a melody.

Under much moaning and wincing, Victor finally rolled off of Yuuri and onto his back, staring at the ceiling while a stupid grin worked his way onto his face. He felt Yuuri getting up from the bed, heard the quiet patter of feet and saw the light come on in his en-suite bathroom as he turned his head, which was just about the only move he was still able to make without pain, he realised.

Yuuri came back from the bathroom with a wash cloth and a clean large towel, and Victor watched him carefully, looking for signs of discomfort. If _he_ already felt aching and sore all over, how would Yuuri feel?

He scooted over at Yuuri’s insistence so that he could place the towel in the middle of the bed, underneath them, covering the mess he had made coming all over the sheets. It seemed to embarrass Yuuri a little, judging from the concentration on his face as he spread the towel into position and told Victor quietly that he could lie back down now, a slight blush in his cheeks when he did so. Victor’s heart went out to him.

When Yuuri came back from the bathroom the second time and crawled up on the bed, Victor pulled him into a cuddle right away. Reaching over to a range of buttons discreetly out of sight along the side of the headboard, he pushed the buttons that would switch off the lights and make a very slim strip of light appear along the wall in the corner with the wooden shelf, just off to the right near the head of his bed.

“I thought that was some kind of decoration,” Yuuri murmured, looking over at the slim line of light along the wall above the wooden board with the vase on. It cast just the daintiest, least annoying shimmer of silvery light through the dark bedroom, like a moonbeam peeking in through one forgotten slit in the blinds.

Victor hummed. “I wanted it to look subtle.” He fell silent.

Yuuri twisted around in his arms so that he could face him, wrapping his arms and legs around him.

“It’s okay to need a little light in the night, you know.” He placed a soft kiss on Victor’s lips, overcome by those heart-clenching emotions that made his chest feel so tight sometimes when he thought about Victor. Thoughts spiralled out of control way too quickly in his mind already, and he wondered if this was something that Victor perhaps had already needed when he was a child, a strip of light from somewhere, when he felt alone in the dark with no parents in whose bed he could climb. Yuuri couldn’t imagine Yakov and Lilia being the kind of people whose comfort a lonely child would seek when he couldn’t sleep or woke from bad dreams. He would never ask Victor about this, Yuuri knew, but he hoped one day Victor would tell him, and just thinking about it made him hug Victor tighter and shower his whole face with tender kisses.

“Are you alright, my darling?” Victor asked. “That was rough.”

Yuuri blushed. “It was perfect.”

“God help me.” Victor laughed quietly in the darkness, afraid for his back.

“I don’t always want… you know. Like that.” Yuuri looked flustered.

“Yuuuuri. I’m just winding you up.” Victor kissed him, playful, gentle kisses that led to sleepy whispers and soft laughter until they found a comfortable position to sleep in without any limbs going numb or breath getting cut off from being too close.

Yuuri woke in the middle of the night with a raging hard-on. It wasn’t an unfamiliar occurrence, as a matter of fact it had happened way too many times ever since he’d been back from Milan. But he had never had Victor beside him in person when it happened.

Sitting up, Yuuri just looked at him, savouring the feeling of being in Victor’s bed, his body deliciously sore from Victor’s cock inside him, his hips stinging from the grip of Victor’s hands. His heart in his throat because, Victor.

Victor was sleeping on his stomach, face turned sideways in Yuuri’s direction. For a long moment Yuuri drank in the view, Victor’s pale skin in the fake moonlight of his fancy night light, blanket kicked down all the way to his feet. Yuuri caressed the broad shoulders with his eyes, skimmed his gaze down the back and dip of his firm butt, the toned thighs. He raked his eyes back up to the arms hugging a pillow, the silver hair falling over his face. And then Yuuri repeated all those caresses again but this time with his hands, his lips, his body. Kneeling beside Victor’s sleeping form, he started by skimming his hands over cool marble skin, ignoring his erection screaming for attention, but not for long, then he found himself kneeling over Victor’s waist, showering kisses all over his back and shoulders while running his hands up and down his waistline.

Victor shifted under him. Sighed. Muttered Yuuri’s name and something else, incomprehensible, while a smile appeared on his face. It made Yuuri feel elated and bold alike and he rose on his knees and scooted lower on the bed, biting back a groan when his cock brushed against Victor’s arse in the action and he wanted nothing more than plunge right in. Victor moved again beneath him, moaning quietly against his arm.

Yuuri pushed Victor’s legs apart on the bed and knelt between them, deciding that Victor’s firm behind needed some appreciation. He felt Victor tremble under the touch of his fingers smoothing the inside of Victor’s thighs, parting a little wider under Yuuri’s touch. Yuuri paid tribute to Victor’s butt with his hands and mouth for a little but then he couldn’t resist laying down on top of him, stretching out his upper body along Victor’s back, legs between Victor’s parted thighs, gently rocking against him.

Yuuri kissed a wet trail along one shoulder and the pale column of Victor’s neck.

“Victor… are you awake?” he whispered against Victor’s ear, brushing a tousled strand of silver hair aside with his lips.

“How can I not be when I have you rubbing your leaking cock between my butt cheeks?”

Victor’s voice was a mere throaty mumble against the skin of his own forearm. Yuuri groaned quietly. Victor’s bed voice, as he felt tempted to call it, went straight into his groin and made him roll his hips into the body beneath him.

“You are so…” He murmured quietly, peppering words along with kisses across Victor’s shoulders and in the curve of his neck. “… gorgeous… I want to… so much… just like this… having you under me like this… driving me crazy… god, Victor… you feel so… good…”

Victor’s voice came out of nowhere.

“Yuuri. If all this adorable stammering is you trying to ask whether you may fuck me face down into the mattress, the answer is yes, please, very much so.”

A whole load of breathless swear words spurted from Yuuri’s mouth all at once and he scrambled to his knees to get the lube and a condom from the bedside table.

He prepared Victor meticulously, tip of his tongue showing between his lips in concentration as he took his time working his slick fingers in and out, paying close attention to the sounds Victor made, adding more pressure and another finger when Victor’s moans became more needy and his body more relaxed. He was painfully hard by the time he sheathed himself with a condom, his cock almost too sensitive already when he added lube and positioned himself between Victor’s thighs, arms braced left and right of Victor’s body. He knew he wouldn’t last long. Yuuri inched his way inside, _loving_ how it made Victor moan his name over and over again as he filled him. He bottomed out, holding out with just the tip of his cock tethering on the rim for one maddening moment long, until he slammed back inside and nothing was heard except the sound of flesh meeting flesh and both of them moaning and gasping in unison.

Victor slipped his fingers in the space between the mattress and the headboard. He gripped the edge of the mattress so tight with his hands that the veins were protruding on his forearms as he used the leverage to push back into Yuuri’s thrusts. Yuuri groaned when he came, as quickly as he’d thought he would because he had just been too riled up. Placing one last wet kiss between Victor’s shoulder blades, he pulled out and rolled over to his side, sorting himself out quickly with a handful of tissues from the bedside table.

Sated, Yuuri lowered his face down to Victor’s face again, asking, “Did you come?”

“Against the sheets like a teenager with a million wet dreams at once,” Victor murmured sleepily.

“Victor, we need to change the sheets.”

“Go back to sleep, Yuuri, you wore me out.”

“We’re gross.”

“But we’re gross _together_.”

Yuuri sat back up and started to tug the towel out from underneath Victor, ignoring his gruff protest at having to move, but finally Yuuri was able to bunch up the towel and throw it out of bed.

“You’re incorrigible,” Yuuri muttered.

“You love it,” Victor muttered back.

Yuuri huffed. But when he cuddled up to Victor as much as their current positions allowed, his face snuggled against Victor’s upper arm and one of his legs hitched over Victor’s, he smiled himself back to sleep.

They woke long before the alarm clock, sleepily reaching for each other immediately.

It started with a kiss. One and then many of the soft and tender early morning kisses that were still heavy with sleep, kissing mouths into smiles and hearts into beating and bodies into acceptance. Victor kissed Yuuri’s mouth, and his nose, and his eyelids, and his forehead. He kissed a way down Yuuri’s neck and collarbone, kissed dark pearly nipples and the curve of his hips. He tasted and sampled Yuuri’s body to memory with his mouth and tongue. Yuuri’s legs parted to Victor’s morning kisses like a sleeping flower to the morning sun.

He arched his back off of the bed as his hands desperately searched for something to hold on to. Looking down he saw Victor between his legs, saw him looking at his body like he was the most beautiful sight in the world. Kisses followed every caress from Victor’s eyes, along the inside of Yuuri’s thighs, along the half-hard length, along the pink soreness from the night before. Yuuri wanted to curse but no words came out, only quiet moans. He still felt delicate from last night but the way Victor caressed him so tenderly with his mouth was almost remorseful. Yuuri became soft and pliable for him, let him place his legs over his shoulders and sighed into every soft stroke of Victor’s tongue. There was nothing he wouldn’t bare for him, nothing he wouldn’t give.

Victor lowered Yuuri’s legs down from his shoulders and onto the bed with utmost care, running his fingertips along the inside of Yuuri’s thighs like a silent request to keep them spread wide. He came back up for more kisses, always more kisses, and those lingering glances that Yuuri felt like he was sinking light blue precious stones below Yuuri’s surface and onto the bottom of his very being. Like Victor couldn’t look his fill of him and remembered every small detail that made up Yuuri.

They kissed eagerly, passionately, tongues drowning and resurfacing, desperate to taste the other and give of themselves. Victor went back down on his body, fingers coated with lube now, and Yuuri opened wider for him, his body calling out for Victor’s touch. His teeth dug into his bottom lip, biting back a sob that wanted to wring from his throat. Victor’s fingers were so careful, soothing where Yuuri had demanded to be used hard just hours before. Yuuri wanted to tell him to get on with it, that he was ready, would always be ready, but he had no words.

He was not ready. When Victor was reaching for a condom and settled between his thighs, eyes locked with his, he was not ready for being filled so maddeningly slowly, like Victor was writing the very feel Yuuri’s body onto his own skin. As if Victor very slowly tried to make his body remember every inch, every clench of Yuuri’s tight heat around him. Yuuri was not ready for the feeling of Victor filling him so completely that he forgot where either of them ended and the other one began. For the slight burning soreness that was like an echo of last night’s rough lovemaking within the utterly gentle way Victor was loving him now. Moving together, their sounds and touches created something new, something unique that became precious and fragile between them. Yuuri wanted to cry. He felt touched like the most precious artefact in the world. All these days he had thought he was the one slaying Victor with his sex appeal. He had been so wrong.

It hurt. Not physically. In the heart. In the soul. Yuuri thought his heart would leap out of his throat any moment. And shatter on the wooden floor of Victor’s bedroom. If they had lived in different times and circumstances they would have made this kind of love. When they were parting. When they were going off to war. This was love of a different world.

Victor’s fingers were laced with his on the bed, holding on to his hands for dear life. Yuuri drank it up with his whole being, everything Victor gave, every thrust, every moan, every sigh. The way Victor said his name again and again like it was the last word he would ever remember, like it was the only word he wanted Yuuri to never forget. Yuuri knew he would wake up in the middle of the night with his heart racing because he heard Victor say his name like this.

Victor’s voice sounded low, and wondrous. Like it had sounded that night they first kissed. Like he couldn’t believe he was really here, that they were really together. Yuuri wrought one of his hands free and brought it up to cup Victor’s face. His breath hitched when he saw the same dreamy smile purse Victor’s lips as he had seen that night, and Victor cradled his cheek in his hand like it belonged there. Just like that night, only now it felt like it wanted to be _every_ night. Yuuri took a deep breath that stuttered so much in his chest that he knew Victor was very aware. He was aware of everything about him.

It was Victor’s free hand weaving down between their bodies and gripping Yuuri’s cock, stroking in time with his thrusts and building their own rhythm, sending them over the edge together, moaning each other’s names and kissing the words from each other’s swollen lips. They lay entangled for a long time. Joined. One.

They couldn’t stop touching afterwards. Not in the shower, not over breakfast, not on the way to work. Not after this, when they had been so close that losing the other’s touch felt like an ache that could only be soothed when they touched again. Not when being without the other’s touch made them feel hollow and incomplete, and like the beautiful fragile something they had created between them would drop and shatter when they did not feel the other near.

They held hands crossing the office foyer and in the lift and didn’t care who saw them or had what to say.

Chris was back from Paris, and he was in a foul mood. Yuuri suspected a lover’s spat and tried to lie low, concentrating on the work at hand and on exchanging sneaky glances and smiles with Victor across the hall while he tried to wrangle some details about their date out of him on the internal messenger. Victor answered all of his prying questions with the same words and heart emojis - that it was a surprise, and Yuuri would see later that evening.

They had a small meeting in the conference room, going over the minutes of the previous day’s meeting and running through the contract in detail. Yuuri caught Victor giving him a fond look as Chris called for a break and Yuuri went to make some coffee. He smiled as he headed out of the room to the tea kitchen.

Chris watched Victor carefully, utterly intrigued. He smoked a quick cigarette by the open window of the conference room while Victor went to his office for a moment to print a copy of the presentation they had seen the day before, wanting to point out some highlights to Chris. There was a spring to his step, a giddiness to his whole persona that Chris hadn’t seen in a long time.

When Victor was back with the printed pages, they stood next to each other by conference table, looking at the papers as Victor was leafing through them.

“I’m glad to see our bet paid off for you, _mon cher_ ,” Chris said, an enigmatic smile playing around his lips.

“Chris…” Victor murmured, exasperated and with an annoyed shake of his head.

“What bet?”

Chris and Victor both swung round at the sound of Yuuri’s voice. He was standing by the other door of the conference room, coffee cups rattling softly on saucers on the tray he was holding as his hands started to shake.

Chris drew in a sharp breath, but he didn’t look particularly remorseful. 

And Victor. Victor looked shocked. Distressed. Heartbroken. Victor looked finished.

Yuuri felt like an ice-cold shower had caught him unawares. The beautiful, fragile something they had created between them only this morning dropped and shattered into a million pieces.

Very slowly, Yuuri placed the tray on the nearest surface, which happened to be the sideboard by the door. His breath had started to come in short, clipped gasps. 

“Yuuri, wait…”

It was Chris’ voice, he recognised through the deafening pounding of the blood in his ears.

Walking back into the room, Yuuri brushed Chris aside as if he was an insignificant entity as he moved in on Victor until he had him pinned against the conference table. His throat felt tight, and for a moment the anxiety that he wouldn’t get the words out was overwhelming.

But he knew he had to ask this, and if it was the last thing he ever did.

Yuuri forced the question out, enunciating every word.

“ _What bet, Victor???”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translation of the German song lyrics:
> 
> _I can feel your heart, it’s as lonely as you are… Let yourself go, close your eyes… Hey, the world stops for you, here in my arms…_
> 
> _When you lose yourself searching for something, I will find you and bring you to me… For one day, for one night, for one moment you spend laughing…_
> 
> _Can you feel me when you’re breathing? Can you feel me when there’s nobody around? Can you feel me?_
> 
> _____________________________________________________________________  
>  Please don't hate me. This hurts me as much as you and them. T_T


	10. Play on Broken Strings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Why have only one crisis when you can have _two?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooooo. Here it is. The chapter some will probably hate, so I'm not even getting my hopes up. I know this will hurt and probably will not be what you expect or want to read, but - I have been plotting and planning this story for months. I thought for a moment about changing it to make it easier on everyone, and then decided against it, despite being a little scared of the comments this time. But this is the story I want to tell. This chapter was really painful on a lot of levels, and I hope you'll weather the storm with me and don't run away before we get all the good stuff that awaits on the other side of this mountain. It's a long chapter and a lot (like a HELL of a lot) happens in it, but I did not want to split this one too and prolong the drama.
> 
> PLEASE NOTE! I don't know the first thing about hacking! I made this up as I went along and I claim no right to accuracy. All my "knowledge" (ha fucking ha!) stems from chats with our IT department and Penelope Garcia on Criminal Minds, who types very fast and finds things. 
> 
> Cuddle up and hold on tight, and please don't give up on me. This is the worst part, and so many good things are on the other side!
> 
> P.S. I don't think this needs a trigger warning but _just in case_ someone frets when you get to that point: nothing, never, under any circumstances will happen to Makkachin!!!!!

**10 – Play on Broken Strings**

Yuuri was pacing in the conference room like a tiger in its cage. His arms had started to itch and it cost him all his willpower not to scratch. His head was a shambles. The sheer force of the facts was mind-numbing. Victor had had a bet running with Chris about sleeping with him. He had been able to wrestle this much out of him. Yuuri couldn’t get his brains around that. Who did that? Who the fuck did something like that?

“What’s in it for you?” Yuuri swung round.

Victor had stepped away from the conference table and was watching him from near the window.

“Nothing, I… Yuuri, please.” Victor ran both hands through his hair. “I backed out of that bet, it was over…”

The words died in his throat as Yuuri slid up towards him in one smooth stride and he found himself grabbed roughly by his tie and shoved into the wall in his back. It would have turned him on, painfully so, if Yuuri’s face hadn’t been so twisted by hurt and fury.

“What!” Yuuri forced out the words like every syllable was a great effort. “Was in it! For You! Victor!”

Victor took a deep breath. Closed his eyes for a moment and opened them again. “Chris’ car.”

Disgusted, Yuuri let go of him and added a little shove for good measure before he turned his back and started pacing again. Part of him wished he would wake up any moment now, while the other part was building walls inside in record time, anything to protect him from this nightmare he felt trapped in.

“Yuuri, I meant to tell you,” Victor tried again. “It’s been weighing me down. I wanted to tell you and hopefully wipe the slate clean and make you see that none of this mattered any more. I know I left it too long, and that was utterly stupid of me, but I was af—”

“Tonight.” Yuuri looked up suddenly. “You wanted to tell me tonight.”

Victor’s pained expression was the only answer he needed.

“You wanted to tell me tonight, and this is why you made love to me this morning like it was the last time! You knew what my reaction would be, so just in case, you wanted to make the most of it!”

“Yuuri, no!” Victor looked appalled but Yuuri was shooting daggers at him with his eyes.

“I will never ever forget what you made me feel this morning! _God!_ ”

Yuuri looked as pained as Victor felt. Everything in him strained to reach out for him but Yuuri’s anger sat between them like an invisible wall.

“You should have told me before! You should have told me before you slept with me! I would have liked to have a chance to decide whether I’ll let myself fall any deeper, because it hurts, _now_ it hurts!"

“I’m sorry, Yuuri! I am so, so sorry. If you please let me explain…”

“No!” Yuuri yelled. “You don’t get to apologise or explain anymore. You should have told me! On Saturday, the day after the bet was off! That’s when you should have told me. Before you touched me!”

“I _tried!_ ” It wasn’t like Victor to raise his voice, and it made Yuuri freeze for a moment.

Yuuri suddenly remembered. The utter sadness in Victor’s face when he said he needed to tell him something. His own words. _Can we please not talk about sad things today?_ His face flushed crimson and anger with himself cursed through him but he fought it down, he absolutely refused to take this upon himself.

“We spent a whole weekend together and you couldn’t find a moment to tell me?” he snapped.

“When would that moment have been, Yuuri?” Victor looked angry now, too, the pained kind of angry. “When could there have possibly been the right moment to bring that up! We were happy.”

“It was fake! It was a fake happiness!”

“It was _not_ fake, Yuuri, and you _know_ it!”

Yuuri stared him down, trembling with agitated breaths. “Would you have approached me, without that bet? Would you have talked to me, become my friend, hung out with my friends, taken me shopping? Met me in the park with our dogs every weekend? Would you have done all that if it hadn’t been for that bet?"

“I… of course I would.”

The one split second in Victor’s answer was all Yuuri heard. It was the invisible hand that shut the lid on the well-filled treasure chest in his heart in which he collected and cherished every single moment of those past few days. Of their short-lived… what? What had that even been??? To think he would never have had this, it hurt just as much as knowing that he would never open this chest again and look at those treasures.

“I don’t believe you.” Yuuri sounded surprised by his own sentiment. “I don’t believe this. I’ll never know now whether you wanted to spend time with me for me or because of some stupid bet!”

“It was for _you_ , Yuuri.” Victor took a few careful steps towards him, one hand reaching out. “Yuuri, please…”

“Don’t!”

Victor froze in place, shattered when Yuuri recoiled from his touch.

“Don’t touch me. You touching me is like… feeling what it’s like to not have! Now I know what I’m missing out on, and that’s what hurts! I hurts that I got to know what your _love_ feels like and now I have to go without it!”

He took another step back towards the door, knowing he needed to get out of here before he started to cry and threw himself in Victor’s arms.

"I cannot talk about this anymore, Victor, this is making me sick. You are making me sick!”

Yuuri opened the door and fled from the room, leaving the door wide open.

When Victor hadn’t been able to find Yuuri on the roof, he hurried back inside via the stairwell and yanked open the door to the bathroom. It was deserted. Victor was about to leave when he heard a faint sound from the other side of the door leading to the ladies’ room. He paused in the centre washroom, then he stepped carefully closer, one hand poised on the doorknob. Steph was on a training course. There was nobody around today to use the ladies’ room. Victor’s heart contracted in his chest when he heard what sounded like a sob.

He remembered Yuuri’s anger. The hurt. Yuuri was so hurt. Victor desperately wanted to explain, clear everything up. Yuuri needed to understand that this stupid bet had been over. That he had fallen for him a long time ago. That whatever they had shared had nothing to do with that bet. That he should never have started it. But he remembered Yuuri’s words, hitting him like a whip. They were ingrained into his skin like invisible lashes. Victor knew he deserved them. He deserved Yuuri demanding Victor to never touch him again. Very slowly, like it was the one thing he didn’t want to do, he withdrew his hand from the doorknob and stepped away from the ladies’ room without a sound. Before he left the bathroom he squared his shoulders. He would have to deal with the trainees next and make sure they didn’t spread the news all over the building. And, most importantly, and he winced at the thought, he would have to descend into grovelling hell, a.k.a. The Newsroom.

**Victor Nikiforov**

**_online_ **

_can you please come up here and check on Yuuri?_

_he’s in the bathroom_

_upset_

**Phichit Chulanont**

**_online_ **

_WHAT did you do???!!!!_

Phichit stepped out of the lift like a raging fury. He paid no attention to the heads turning at reception as he marched past and headed straight down the hallway for the bathroom, slamming the door loudly behind him once inside like a warning to anyone to dare come and disturb them.

He found Yuuri in the cabin, sitting on the closed toilet seat doubled over with his arms wrapped around himself, heaving. Phichit was on his knees in front of him instantly, prying his hands free and holding them tight between them.

“Yuuri. Talk to me!” he said gently. His stomach knotted with worry when he saw Yuuri’s pale face.

“It was a bet, Peach!” Yuuri struggled for words. “Victor had a bet going on with Chris about getting me into bed.”

“WHAT!” Phichit yelled and jumped to his feet. “I’m going to _castrate_ him!”

For a moment it looked like he was about to bolt from the bathroom to hunt Victor down and do just that, but then his eyes fell on Yuuri again and he knew he would never leave his best friend alone in this state. So he paced back and forth in front of the sink for a moment, shaking his head as he tried to make sense of it all.

Yuuri stood up and came out of the cabin on somewhat shaky legs. He started to run the cold water in the sink, holding his hands under the tap. Phichit came to his side and turned off the water when he saw Yuuri’s hands shaking.

“I don’t understand,” he said, utterly confused. “He seemed sincere. Yuuri, that man is in love with you if I’ve ever seen anyone in love with another person.”

“He’s obviously a good actor,” Yuuri said numbly to his image in the mirror. He looked terrible.

“Nobody is that good an actor!” Phichit insisted. He did not blink an eye when Yuuri turned on him.

“Whose side are you on, Peach!” Yuuri glared at him.

“Yuuri, for god’s sake!” Phichit snapped right back at him. “I’m on your side, I’m always on your side!”

For a moment they stared at each other, and Phichit sighed when he saw Yuuri visibly crumbling before his eyes.

“Shit, Yuuri. What are we going to do now?” he asked softly. “D’you want to cry?”

“Like I would let him have that triumph!” Yuuri yelled defiantly. He looked at Phichit for one miserably long moment. “Of _course_ I want to cry!”

“Okay. Come here.” Phichit wrapped his arms around him and just let Yuuri cry.

When Yuuri’s sobs had ceased and the shoulder of Phichit’s shirt was thoroughly soaked through, they tried to restore Yuuri’s face and whole appearance with the help of several wads of paper towels soaked with cold water.

“Do you want to go home?” Phichit asked. Nobody would be able to blame Yuuri if he did. The next moment Phichit made a grimace that was part emotion, part smile with a good dash of pride of his best friend.

Determination set on Yuuri’s face. “I’m not going to let them have that.”

“Right.” Phichit chewed on the inside of his cheeks for a moment, thinking. “We have a spare desk in the newsroom, you know, the one we call the cat’s table? You can just as well work from there. And I’ll be just outside to kick out anyone who tries to come near you.”

Yuuri looked at him and sniffed quietly. He made to speak but Phichit cut him off with one hand raised.

“No sorry, no thank you. Remember?”

Yuuri nodded, visibly struggling not to just cry again.

“Now. Give me your phone.” Phichit held out his hand.

“Why?” Yuuri frowned.

“Because in a month from now you will be crying over every message from Victor you delete now in your first rage and heartache, and I don’t want to have to listen to that. As the captain of your cheerleading squad it’s my responsibility to make sure that you’re not hurting yourself in whichever way.”

After another glare Yuuri grumpily handed over his phone. Phichit pocketed it.

“Okay.” Hands on Yuuri’s shoulders, Phichit looked him straight in the eyes. “You take the stairs now and meet me in the newsroom. I’ll get your stuff.”

“I need to tell Chris…” Yuuri started but Phichit shook his head, his eyes flaring with angry determination.

“ _I’m_ going to tell him. Don’t worry about that asshole now.”

Victor was standing near the door in his office, hands on his hips, feeling worn out, sore. He had just seen the trainees out after very gently yet firmly letting them know that the help of trainees was always sought after in accounting, and that he would very much regret having to defer them should he find out they had let others know just what had gone down here today. Yuuri would hate it if the whole company knew and took pity on him. And god, it hurt Victor that he knew him so well.

The door opened and Chris wanted to come in. “Victor, I need you to…”

“No, Chris.” Victor glared at him. “You really, _really_ need to leave me alone right now!”

He slammed the door in his face.

It was opened again a moment later. “For fuck’s sake, Chris, haven’t you done enough for one…” Victor fell silent when he saw it was Jamie. “Yes?” Victor asked with forced calm after a deep, struggling breath.

He followed Jamie outside and tensed when he saw Phichit next to the reception, where Chris was still standing. Phichit was holding Yuuri’s bag, his jacket, and his tea mug.

“Yuuri’s working from a spare desk in the newsroom today,” Phichit was just telling Chris, every single one of his words as sharp as a slap. “Email him if you need anything. There’s no need for you to come down.”

As he turned around to go his eyes met Victor’s, and for a moment his angry face changed to something acutely painful, like he was asking with just his expression _How could you? I was rooting for you!_

While waiting for the lift to arrive, Phichit heard Jamie call out to Victor.

“Victor, there’s some event management person on the phone for you, asking about the sprinklers and picnic arrangement and gazebo for tonight?”

Victor’s voice was already half swallowed by him going back into his office. “Tell her it’s off. It’s all off, she can send me the invoice, I’m paying the full price.”

Phichit frowned as he stepped into the left, wishing desperately he didn’t know what this meant.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“Have you considered that Victor wanted to _tell_ you, gently, and Chris fucked it all up purpose?” Phichit asked Yuuri later that night.

They were sitting on Yuuri’s couch again, legs meeting in the middle, beer bottles in their hands, empty pizza cartons and empty beer bottles on the coffee table.

“I wouldn’t put it past him.” Yuuri looked worn out. There had been more tears throughout the evening. Vicchan had spent a lot of time snuggling up to him and licking his face. He was in Yuuri’s lap now.

“Something about this doesn’t make sense to me,” Phichit mused. “Like… there’s something missing.”

“It doesn’t matter, Peach. It’s over.” Yuuri huffed.

Phichit watched him for a long moment. At last he sighed.

“Well…” He took a swig from his bottle. “There’s one side of you Victor hasn’t met yet, and I do feel kind of sorry for him despite everything.”

Yuuri raised his eyes from Vicchan in his lap. “Which one’s that?”

Phichit grinned, but it did look a little worried. “Yuuri Katsuki, Bitch Supreme.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Thursday night dinner at Yakov and Lilia’s was a tense affair. Normally conversation and laughter flowed freely with Yura and Mila at the table, but tonight both of them had resorted to angry glares and snide comments across the table in Victor’s direction. It had been too much to hope for news not making the rounds, of course, and Victor tried to just suck it up and get through his days somehow.

After a night lying awake, but especially with the physical exhaustion of the night and morning before that still echoing with yearning and loneliness in his bones, Victor felt weary in every limb. Against better knowledge he had tried to call Yuuri several times. Every single call had been rejected and finally gone straight to voicemail. At work that day Yuuri had stayed out of his way and closed the door to Victor’s office from outside when he walked past getting the mail. The message could not be clearer.

Victor, with stoic patience, complimented Lilia on the food he cut and moved around on his plate, but didn’t speak much apart from that. It was clear that the few bites he ate were mostly out of politeness towards Lilia and to acknowledge her taking the time to cook.

“So, Yura, have you been talking to Otabek lately?” Mila asked before putting a piece of steak in her mouth.

“Why? You have any bets running on when I’m going to get him laid?” Yura said pointedly.

“Mila! Yura! You stop this right now!” Yakov barked. “Can’t you see Vitya is feeling bad enough already!”

Both Yura and Mila seemed to shrink visibly in their seats, though Yura kept shooting Victor death glares across the table. Victor gave Yakov a barely there, grateful smile.

Once dinner was finished, Victor helped Lilia clear the table and do the dishes like he always did. It was normally something they all joined in together, but Yakov had sent Mila and Yura to their rooms like naughty children, his expression making very clear he was fed up with their behaviour for one evening.

“Come on, say it.” Victor attempted a tired smile when he handed Lilia a plate to dry. “That one day Chris would get me in the kind of trouble that would screw up something really good for me.”

Lilia dried the plate completely and placed it on top of two other ones that were already done.

“You already know this. I don’t have to tell you.” Her voice was clipped, as he had known it all his life.

They worked in silence until all the dishes were washed, dried, and put away.

“Do you want to stay the night? I can make up the guest room for you.” The offer was crisp, but kind.

“Lilia…” Victor sighed and seemed tempted for a moment. The thought about going back home to his apartment, sleep in the bed that still had more traces of Yuuri than he could handle, was terrifying.

“I appreciate the offer,” he said at last and smiled a little. It didn’t reach his eyes. “But I cannot just hide in my old home and wait out the storm. I’m grown up now.”

“Then behave accordingly, Vitya,” Lilia told him sternly and stalked from the kitchen, though not without placing one hand on his arm for a moment, one of her few and rare gestures of physical affection.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

On Friday night Yuuri was surprised to find that his friends had moved the armchair in which Victor would normally sit on their movie nights far away out of sight, and that instead of Bollywood night they would be playing Monster Hunter. He nearly teared over again but Leo just gave him a hug and Guang Hong made him sit down in the sofa corner and placed two dogs in his lap while they got all kinds of food ready and Phichit arrived with several crates of drinks which Leo helped him bring up from the car. Yuuri wanted to tell them how grateful he was for them trying so hard to take his mind off of things, but every time he tried they would cut him off.

“There’s nothing to be thankful for. You would do the same for us,” Leo said.

“You’d better get ready for battle because we are going to do this all through the night and as long as we last throughout tomorrow,” Phichit added, already in competitive mode.

“The only reason you’ll have to cry is when we kick your butt at Monster Hunter.” Guang Hong gave Yuuri a playful nudge as he sat down beside him one the couch, controller ready in his hands.

“You wish,” Yuuri replied, smiling weakly, but smiling.

Much later, after Yuuri had kicked all their asses at Monster Hunter but cried himself out at the same time, he had fallen asleep on the sofa, cuddling Vicchan and Shi close to him. Phichit, once he had placed a blanket over all three of them, was talking quietly in the kitchen with Leo and Guang Hong.

“I think he might have planned a ‘Kuch Kuch Hota Hai’ date for Yuuri.” He took a gulp from the beer bottle in his hand. “When I left, Jamie told Victor he had someone on the phone for him, something about a sprinkler and a picnic and a gazebo. He told Jamie to tell them to cancel everything and just send him the full invoice.”

“Fuck, Peach, why did you have to tell us that!” Leo winced. “I was trying to hate the guy.”

“That’s just the problem, isn’t it?” Guang Hong said. “We can hate what he did. But we cannot hate Victor.”

Leo shook his head. “Everyone who saw them arriving holding hands on Wednesday basically told me the same thing: they were losing the will to live seeing these two entering the building like some gloss magazine power couple.”

“He’s a man deeply in love who did a really stupid thing, fuck knows why,” Guang Hong mused.

“I know why.” Leo snorted. “Fucking Chris.”

Phichit threw a look over his shoulder to where Yuuri was asleep in the living room. “Unfortunately, he did it to our favourite, anxious cinnamon roll there, who will bitch and spit fire and stubbornly deny his own feelings for the longest time now. I’m afraid it will send him into one of this absurd anxiety spirals where he sees monsters everywhere. Buckle up, gentlemen, we’ve got our work cut out for us.”

He held out his beer for Leo and Guang Hong to clank theirs against it.

“I hate this shit,” Guang Hong and drank. “They are the textbook definition of made for each other if I’ve ever seen one. Present company excepted, of course.” He smiled at Leo.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The same evening, Victor opened his door to what he believed was the delivery service ringing the bell.

It was Chris. With puppy dog eyes and a bottle of Victor’s favourite gin in his hands, and a heartfelt apology that took him several minutes to convey.

Victor just looked at him for a very long moment. He was still angry. At long last, he breathed a huge sigh. He didn’t say anything, but he knew Chris would be able to read him like a book: _You are a useless, stupid idiot sometimes, Chris Giacometti, but you are mine, and I won’t find a better one. I’m stuck with you._

Victor walked away from the door but left it open, for Chris to come in.

Chris put the gin in the freezer and reached down to pet an excited Makkachin absentmindedly as he looked around the living room. He didn’t think he had ever seen empty food boxes left outside on Victor’s coffee table before. It had been years since he’d seen Victor eat food from anything else but proper plates. Yet here were the remnants of Chinese take-out, dried out sauce and rice sticking to styrofoam containers. The couch looked very much like it had been used as a bed for at least one night. Chris cocked one eyebrow at Victor in question.

“I can’t…” Victor nodded in the direction of the bedroom. Chris nodded slowly. He had had those moments, when he hadn’t been able to face a bed he had shared with someone whose absence cut too deep.

“Want me to tidy up there? Change the sheets?” he offered. They had done far more personal things for each other over the years.

“I don’t know.” Victor slumped down on the couch, face buried in his hands. At long last he looked up at Chris again. “Cigarette me, for fuck’s sake.”

Chris opened the door to the delivery service and walked Makkachin. He tidied up Victor’s bedroom and couldn’t help a silent proud salute of best friend admiration when he pulled off the sheets with their telltale traces and stuffed them in the washing machine. He cleared up the living room table and put most of the newly delivered food in the fridge when Victor couldn’t eat more than a few bites. He mixed one gin & tonic after the other and zapped through TV shows they did not watch.

Victor didn’t say much, so Chris didn’t either. He was just there, like they had been for each other all their lives.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

On Monday morning, Yuuri stood in front of his mirror and pulled up the perfectly tied double Windsor knot he had practised all Sunday long. He looked immaculate in his blue tailor-made suit from Milan, his hair gelled back, shoes shining, tie perfectly matching and in place, shoulders straightened, jaw stubbornly squared. He was glad to see there were no traces of tears in his eyes anymore. He had caught up on sleep and decided that he had cried enough.

Phichit cast him a wary glance in the car on the way to work before he exchanged a confused look with Leo. Yuuri kept his eyes on his phone.

The quarterly meeting was the usual boring affair. Yuuri typed the minutes on his laptop, but he kept his head up and didn’t avert his eyes whenever he met someone’s gaze, no matter how hard it was and how anxious it made him feel inside. Except Victor’s. Once or twice their eyes would accidentally meet, and it made him tense and nervous. Victor always knew. Victor always saw right down to the bottom of his heart and soul.

As soon as Chris called the meeting over most people jumped up and hurried from the room, work waiting on their desks that dreary meetings always kept them from. There were still some people gathering their things and slowly filing outside, among them Phichit and Yura, who were still chatting to someone from product design outside the door, when Yuuri sidled up to Chris, who was standing at the head of the conference table gathering his notes. Yuuri noted from the corner of his eyes how Victor’s head whipped around towards him.

“Chris.” Yuuri gave him his brightest smile.

Chris lowered the papers in his hands, confused.

Yuuri looked at him from sparkling eyes behind his glasses, his most devastating smile on his face. His body language was unmistakable, the way he leaned back against the conference table with his arms to his side, upper body turned just the slightest way towards Chris.

“I was wondering… remember when you asked me out for a drink after first aid class? We never got round to doing that, so is that offer still standing? I would like to take you up on it.”

Chris’ jaw dropped. The people still halfway out the doorway fell silent, but Yuuri paid them no attention.

And then Victor was by his side, with a voice like a gun shot.

“Yuuri, what the fuck are you doing?” Victor’s gaze was cold as steel.

“Victor, I’m sure…”

“Chris! Leave us!” Victor cut him off sharply without even looking at him.

The door closed behind Chris and everyone else without a sound.

Victor moved in on Yuuri until there were merely a few inches left between them. His patience was clearly at an end.

“I’m trying to get you that sports car you’re so hung up on.” Yuuri glared at him. “Wasn’t that what you wanted?”

Victor’s eyes narrowed. “If you believe that this is what the past few days have been all about, you’re insulting both me and yourself.”

“I’m sure if you ask Chris he would be willing to get back on that bet. It’s a really nice car, Victor. I wouldn’t want all your efforts to have been in vain.”

“Now you’re being unnecessarily cruel, Yuuri,” Victor said, quietly but sharp. “It doesn’t suit you.”

“Don’t talk like you know me, Victor! You know nothing about how I feel!”

“On the contrary, I believe I know too much.”

“Don’t flatter yourself!” Yuuri turned on his heel and stormed out of the conference room, yanking the door open so hard that it slammed into the wall behind it.

Back at his desk, he saw a chat window blinking on the internal messenger.

**Phichit Chulanont**

**_online_ **

_Yuuri, what the FUCK are you doing?????!!!!_

_BATHROOM!!!_

_NOW!!!!!!!!!!!_

The bathroom downstairs in the newsroom was where Phichit and Yuuri often met for emergency conversations, or ‘I’m bored at my desk’ conversations, and sometimes for the kind of conversations that they couldn’t have at their desks with other people listening in. Phichit was waiting by the door of the men’s room when Yuuri stepped out of the lift and walked up, holding the door open with the face of a really pissed off parent about to ground their misbehaving kid. It was not unfitting for the situation, for Yuuri looked every inch like a defiant teenager.

Phichit waited just long enough until he had closed the door until he exploded.

“What he _fuck_ were you thinking! Is this what you’ve been stewing over all Sunday, when you said you were fine on your own?? _This_ is what you’ve come up with?”

“What do _you_ know, Peach!” Yuuri walked to the last one of the sinks, then turned and glared at his friend.

Phichit threw his hands up in the air like a coach who had spent years training an athlete and now had to watch them do the complete opposite of everything they’d been working on for years.

“I know you’re hurting and you want to hurt Victor in return, but this is cheap, Yuuri, this is not you!”

“You’re damn right I’m hurting, Peach. It’s driving me crazy! And it’s not fair! I feel so used!”

“I don’t think this was what Victor was setting out to do.”

“But it’s done! We can’t go back and change it! When I asked him if he would have started talking to me, becoming my friend, if it hadn’t been for the bet, he hesitated. He would never have talked to me!”

“You don’t know that! You cannot know that! Perhaps he was just trying to find the right words to say. I personally think that you and Victor are—”

“ _Don’t_ give me this ‘meant to be’ crap now, Peach, I couldn’t bear it! We were never meant to be.”

Yuuri turned his back on him and started running cold water over his wrists. But Phichit was on a roll.

“That is crap, and deep down inside you know it. You’re an amazing person, Yuuri, and anyone would want to get to know you. Not for some shitty bet but because you’re you. You are smart, you are funny, you look after the people you care about like they’re the most precious things in the world. You are drop dead gorgeous and you have an ass other people would kill for.”

He stepped closer and placed one arm around Yuuri’s shoulder. They looked at each other in the mirror.

“You also have a glass heart, and once it’s shattered you unleash this bitch on the person who did it, and it makes me afraid for you. Seeing you like this, like upstairs just now, makes me afraid for you. You cannot go out there and throw this deadly charm on someone, Yuuri, you’ll get taken advantage of.”

“Well, it looks like that is just my speciality when it comes to relationships.” Yuuri turned off the water and reached for some paper towels.

“Did it make you feel better?” Phichit wanted to know. “Selling yourself cheap out of spite? Riling Victor up until you were both hurting and spitting fire at each other and treating each other with disrespect - did that make you feel better???”

Yuuri tossed the paper towels into the bin with much more force than was necessary. He clearly had no answer for Phichit.

“I know it hurts, Yuuri.” Phichit made him turn around to look at him again and put his hands on Yuuri’s shoulders. “I _know_. And I know you want him to hurt like you do right now, but you’re not seeing clearly. Deep down inside you know you cannot bear it to see people sad and hurting. So don’t lash out and try to bring pain upon others. Don’t be a person you will struggle being with later.”

There were fresh tears running down Yuuri’s cheeks, but Phichit knew they were tears of anger and frustration. He shook his head resolutely at Yuuri and caught the tears with his thumbs.

“Now get your head out of your own ass and suck it up! Stay the hell away from Chris, don’t make this any more of a mess than it already is! You’re so much better than this.”

The bathroom door flew open and Leo stood in the door. He looked pale. Shook up. For a moment Yuuri thought it was about them yelling at each other in the bathroom, but he was wrong.

“Chris wants everyone back in the conference room. Now! There’s a fire in Turkey,” Leo said, urgently.

Yuuri and Phichit exchanged a glance. Turkey meant hazelnuts. The complete harvest for their chocolate spread, their bestseller, came from there. Dread pooled in Yuuri’s stomach as the meaning of Leo’s words sank in. This was bad. This was really, really bad. Like a flick had been switched inside him, he hurried towards the door where Leo had already disappeared from.

“Yuuri.” Phichit stalled him with his hand on his arm. “I mean it. No more coming on to anyone up there, do you hear me? This is bigger than all of that. This could be our very existence on the line.”

Leo was holding the glass door leading to the stairwell open for them, claiming that waiting for the lift would take too long. They hastened up three sets of stairs in record time.

The TV was on in the conference room as the team leaders of the separate departments filed back inside, all eyes on the screen where a popular business station was currently broadcasting live footage of a fire raging through rows of hazelnut trees, flames licking from one tree to the next, smoke darkening the sunny day on the coast of the Black Sea. Breaking news running along the bottom of the screen announced the outbreak of the fire about half an hour ago, the words _Crispino & Giacometti_ frequently sliding by.

Yuuri and Phichit were not the only ones whose hands flew to their mouths as they stared at the screen wide-eyed, unable to believe that what they were seeing affected them immediately and was not some horror movie scenario or someone else’s catastrophe. It was the end of the harvest season, when they would be able to get the largest, most aromatic nuts for their chocolate spread. If the weather was in their favour, like it had been this year, they waited until the end of the season. They would lose pretty much the complete harvest.

Chris and Victor snapped into action immediately, all private issues forgotten. Yuuri was surprised and relieved when he felt himself capable of doing the same, almost glad that he was able to concentrate on something else than his own woes. They were pretty amazing, Yuuri couldn’t help but acknowledge, the way they were all composed yet determined company leaders, laying down a plan of action they couldn’t have had more than a few minutes to come up with. Radiating calm that was necessary right now if you didn’t want a couple hundred of employees worldwide panicking.

Chris announced he was going out there as soon as possible and gave Yuuri instructions to book him on the next flight and make all necessary arrangements. Yuuri nodded, glad to have something to do.

Victor would stay put and hold the fort with Sara, because not only would the employees need reassurance but also local partners and shareholders. As soon as the news was out, people would freak out and want to sell their shares before they dropped even more in worth. Already stock prices were flickering across the screen, the TV announcer speculating about what this would mean for Crispino & Giacometti and their market value.

Everyone went back to work after the briefing, Victor accompanying Sara downstairs to draw up first statements for press, business partners, and employees. Yuuri was still in the conference room with Chris, going over Chris’ schedule to cancel and move appointments when Mila ran in, mobile phone in her hand.

“Sorry.” She stopped in the open doorway, out of breath like she had run up the stairs. “Vitya not here?”

“He’s with Sara drawing up the press statements,” Chris said. “Can I help you?”

“I’ve got Yakov on the phone, it’s urgent.” Mila came closer and pressed a button on the phone in her hand.

“Yakov, I’ve put you on speaker,” she said. “Vitya’s busy but I found Chris.”

She placed the phone on the table in front of Chris and he leaned over, arms crossed on the table.

“Yakov. What’s the matter? It’s just me and Yuuri and Mila here.” He motioned for Mila to close the doors, and she did so quickly.

“Chris!” Yakov’s voice boomed even through the phone speaker. “I just got information from one of my sources in Turkey that the manager there might have something to do with the fire. He’s been acting strange lately.”

Chris frowned. “Strange how?”

“Guarded. Like he was up to something. And earlier this morning he assembled everyone for a pointless meeting. Like he was trying to get all the employees away from the trees.”

“Which would only make sense if he knew the trees would…” Chris couldn’t finish the sentence, the horror on his face mirrored in Yuuri and Mila’s expressions.

“Burn. Exactly,” Yakov agreed gruffly.

“Has he run??” Chris wanted to know, gritting his teeth.

“Not yet. But he seems nervous. His crisis management is half-hearted from what I hear.”

“That bastard!” Chris slammed his fist on the table, making the phone jump.

“Chris. I’ve called Josef. He will meet you there.”

“Thank you, Yakov.” Chris disconnected the call and handed the phone back to Mila.

“Can you let Sara and Victor know and tell them to come up?” Chris jumped up from his seat.

Mila nodded and hurried from the room. Chris turned to Yuuri, giving instructions as they walked from the conference room to Chris’ office.

“Cancel my flight tonight and let them get the company plane ready. I hate having to do this, but this is an emergency. Just pack my passport and the clothes from my office closet, there’s no time. I can buy everything else there. I need to be there as soon as possible. If that wanker really has something to do with this then he’ll expect me on the next flight out and probably thinks this gives him some time before he can bolt. Getting there sooner is my only chance.” 

Yuuri nodded and headed straight for his desk to make the necessary call. Just minutes later he was in Chris’ office and opening his closet to pack for him.

“What sources does Yakov have other than our own employees?” he asked Chris, who was printing off some documents while Yuuri opened the small suitcase from the closet and placed it on the floor.

Chris smiled. “Nobody really knows. Only that Yakov was already a champion at networking before networking even existed.”

Yuuri nodded, folding two of Chris’ spare suits into the suitcase.

“It worries me that he’s brought Josef in, to be honest,” Chris mused.

Yuuri looked up and saw the concern on Chris’ face. Josef Karpisek had been friends with Chris’ and Sara’s parents for longer than they all could remember. He was known as a tough cookie, ruthless and relentless when he was convinced of a case, infamously known for tearing opposing parties to shreds in court. He had been the company lawyer for the longest time until he retired, though not without training Steph and Luca after his model. It was as scary as it was fabulous to see especially Steph in top form, given her lack of height and her cute looks. Josef had raised both Steph and Luca exceedingly well as his successors.

Just sometimes, very rarely, Josef would still come in to handle issues himself. _Serious_ issues.

Yuuri had just tucked phone and laptop chargers, cables and an international adapter into a side pocket of Chris’ suitcase when the phone rang on his desk outside and he hurried from the room, closing the door because Chris’ mobile went off at the same moment.

He had just got up again from his desk when the lift doors opened and Sara and Victor stepped out, heading for Chris’ office.

“Papa and Mickey are on standby in Milan in case we need help,” Sara told Victor. “They’ve got my back.”

Victor nodded. “Yakov too. Well, you know Yakov.” He stopped walking and turned towards her. Placing his hands on her shoulders he said, very solemnly, “Vitya! It’s up to you now to weather the storm! Do your best! If you need anything, you know you can always count on me.”

Sara laughed. Victor’s Yakov impressions had been dead on since the age of five.

“What about…” She nodded her head in the direction of Chris’ office.

“Still on the phone.” Yuuri had walked over by now and opened the door for them.

The smiles died on their faces when they saw Chris sitting on the edge of his desk and talking agitatedly on the phone.

“ _Non_ , _papa_ , I don’t want you to come here! Call off the plane! This is our company now. Why can’t you handle things like Massimo and Yakov for once in your life and have a little faith in me??!!”

He stood up and lifted the phone from his ear for a moment, rolling his eyes at Sara and Victor.

“I know you don’t think I’m capable of carrying a piece of paper from here to the photo copier, but you retired. We are in charge now. Sara, Victor and me. Just back the hell off!” He rang off and threw his phone on the desk.

Yuuri retrieved Chris’ passport from the small safe hidden in the cabinet of Chris’ office.

“The plane will be ready in half an hour,” he said and handed Chris his passport.

“That’s quick. Usually they faff about much longer. How the hell did you manage that?” Chris looked positively surprised.

“I don’t know.” Yuuri shrugged, trying to bite back a smile. “Just gave them a little hell, perhaps?”

Chris laughed and shook his head, impressed. “You’re amazing. Thank you, Yuuri.”

Yuuri nodded and quietly retreated from the room, smiling at Sara, averting his eyes from Victor.

He watched from his desk, a little while later, how they said goodbye, hugging tight for a very long moment. Yuuri saw the same determination he had seen in Milan, the same energy, the same dynamics. It gave him a little reassurance, knowing that their bosses were taking up this fight. Because if he allowed to let his mind run away with the news running across the bottom of the TV screen in the conference room at the moment, he would start freaking out.

When the lift doors had closed behind Chris and Sara, Jamie was waiting for Victor with a list of people who had called and wanted him to call back. Victor nodded and squared his shoulders. Inside his office and at reception, the phones were already ringing again.

It had begun.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Yuuri came home late after what had been the longest Monday in his entire life. Just as he fell into bed, he remembered his phone and to check that the alarm was set. There was a message on the display from Yura, sent earlier that day. Pretty much right after the meeting was over and he came on to Chris, to be precise.

**_Yuri Plisetsky_ **

_Katsudon! What the fuck are you doing!_

Groaning, Yuuri put his phone on the bedside table and pulled the blanket over his head. The meeting seemed an eternity ago now what with everything that had happened afterwards. The whole day rewound in his head and he sighed, hoping he would be able to sleep at all despite his exhaustion.

In the darkness of his room, Phichit’s words rang extra loud in his head.

_Did it make you feel better? Riling Victor up until you were both hurting and spitting fire at each other and treating each other with disrespect - did that make you feel better???_

Yuuri knew one thing that made him feel, and he hated, hated, hated himself for this, for the way his body betrayed him now, hated the fact that he was hard and aching, missing Victor physically, so much that it hurt. The memory of Victor’s anger as he spoke to him and the hard expression in his eyes guided Yuuri’s hands in fierce, erratic stokes of his cock. Yuuri wished himself back to that moment but in his mind they allowed the fury between them to discharge, in his mind they kissed brutally, unloading all their anger into passion, in his mind they fucked each other’s brains out against the wall of the conference room until the whole damn office could hear that they were meant to be. Yuuri cursed Victor and all that he made him feel when he came all over his hand, and he cursed him again when he cleaned himself up, and then he cursed him more because he missed him until he fell asleep.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Victor’s phone rang in the middle of the night. He hadn’t been able to sleep much, so he was almost glad for the distraction.

“Chris. You’ve arrived.”

“Just in time. The bastard was really about to run. Bless Yakov and his unerring hunches.”

“Has he talked?”

“Not yet. I suppose Josef will make him soon, though.”

They both chuckled a bit about that.

“How’s everything back home?”

Victor sobered up at the question. He heaved a huge sigh. “Shareholders and business partners are worried. The first ones have started selling their shares.”

“That was quick.” Chris sounded disappointed.

“Milk powder suppliers worry we won’t buy as much as we normally do if we have to stop the chocolate spread production.”

“Our people?”

“Scared.” Another deep sigh. “Some showing it more openly than others. They trust us.”

“Let’s not let them down then, huh?”

“Not as long as I have anything to say about it,” Victor said.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The first week passed by in a blur. Yuuri had never seen so many people on the management floor at once since he’d started working there. There were daily meetings, just short ones but people seemed to want to be closer and stick together in crisis. The TV in the conference room was on nearly all day, and often enough they would see Chris on screen, visiting their employees in Turkey, walking through rows and rows of charred hazelnut trees with his hands in his pockets and a grim expression on his face, giving interviews to nosy journalists in which he tried for a reassuring pose and promised that they would take care of their employees who had lost their jobs and to some extent even their homes when the fire had spread from the trees to the nearby buildings. At least nobody had got hurt. The manager was still not talking, despite Chris’ and Josef’s best attempts.

Yuuri functioned. The only good thing he could see about the crisis was that he had no time to wallow. He arranged meetings and did sandwich runs, made endless cups of coffee and tea. Someone brought their coffee machine up, someone else their kettle, and soon Yuuri wasn’t the only one who answered phones or carried trays of food and drink around. Often enough when he remembered he still needed to stack or unload the dishwasher he came into the tea kitchen to find it had already been done. He avoided Victor like the plague, though he always made sure that whoever was doing the sandwich or lunch run would bring something for him. When he spotted someone making coffee he added Victor’s cup to the tray and pointed out to whoever was serving it that this particular cup had to go to him.

He was on his feet all day from the moment he set foot in the office and fell into his bed like a stone late every evening. And yet, Yuuri had never felt more at home in a job than with his Crispino & Giacometti family.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

It was during one of Chris’ many interviews that a little girl, the daughter of one of their employees on location, tore herself free from her mother’s hand and ran right towards him, crashing his interview. The agitated voice of the mother could be heard somewhere behind the camera, but Chris actually interrupted the interview, smiled down at the little girl and lifted her up so she sat on his hip.

“And what’s your name, sweetheart?” he asked, while she looked adoringly at him, clearly fascinated by his glasses and his blond curls.

Someone translated his question into Turkish, and she answered with a shy smile, so quiet that several people around them repeated the name for Chris.

“Leyla? Is that your name? Leyla?” he asked her. She nodded.

Chris looked past the camera and assured the frantically apologising mother that everything was perfectly alright and he would just finish the interview with the girl on his arm.

And he did.

While back home in their office, several people were standing stunned in front of the TV in the conference room, squealing with delight and emotion and surprise, hands clasped before mouths, and Sara had a spontaneous idea for some positive PR. 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Yuuri was clearing up coffee cups in the conference room when he heard Victor slam down the phone. He had heard him talk quite amicably through the open door up until this very moment, so this passionate reaction came as a surprise.

“Screw you, you bastard!” Victor yelled to no-one in particular and brought his fist down on his desk.

Stacking cups on a tray, Yuuri cast stolen glances into Victor’s office. For a moment Victor sat slumped over with his elbows on his desk, face buried in his hands. Yuuri could see his body rise and fall as he took deep breaths like he was calming down. When his hands came away from his face and he sat up, Victor looked resolved with new vigour. He picked up the phone again and a moment later was sweet-talking another shareholder into not selling his shares. Yuuri carried his tray out the other door, wishing he didn’t find Victor’s steely, relentless determination and the utter refusal to give up such a turn-on, or that it wouldn’t make his heart skip so madly in his chest.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The second week, Yuuri suspected that something was wrong when Thursday rolled around and the reception was unmanned when he came in in the morning. He had somehow expected the trainees to come to work even on the days they were not usually supposed to. They had been there every day the previous week. Surely these days all rules were cancelled and people stuck together? It irked him that clearly not everybody seemed to think so.

By late morning the ringing of the phones was incessant. Victor was in a telephone conference with some of their most important shareholders hoping to be able to convince them not to sell just yet. Mila had come up to take over at reception but she couldn’t keep up, and even with Yuuri redirecting one of the reception phones to his own, Victor’s line kept ringing. Yuuri chewed on his bottom lip for a while, looking at the angrily blinking red light on the phone system that kept telling him there was an incoming call on Victor’s line.

He heard Mila repeating the same phrases again and again, the same as he did, phrases they had been instructed to answer with while they took telephone notes. Yuuri finished his own call, chest rising and falling with sudden nerves. He hesitated one more moment, then picked up Victor’s line.

The woman at the other end was in hysterics. It took Yuuri a moment to get through to her. He had expected another fretting shareholder worried about his money’s worth and was all set to repeat his standard lines, not a woman who started crying when she realised that someone had actually finally answered the phone.

“No, Victor absolutely cannot come to the phone right now…” Yuuri frowned, trying to make sense of the sobbed out words. “We’re kind of in the middle of a crisis here. Can I help you instead?”

He kept shaking his head. The connection was terrible, like she was in or at least very near an area with no reception. “I’m sorry… what about Makkachin?” Anxiety gripped his insides tight at the mention of Makka and he started praying silently that please, please, nothing had happened to her on top of everything else.

“What hospital… hang on, are you the dog sitter???”

Yuuri’s heart was pounding when he finally hung up. He took a couple of deep breaths, tried to sort his thoughts for just one moment, then he did what he did best – he took charge.

Sliding open the bottom drawer of his desk, he took out the head set he had deposited there the first day he started working for Chris, when he’d decided that he didn’t need it. He connected it to his phone and slipped the earpiece on. Then he rushed over to reception and opened a drawer all the way until he could reach a small hidden compartment at the very back where he knew a spare key to Victor’s apartment was kept for emergencies. Nobody but him, Victor and Chris knew about this. Mila looked at him with wide eyes and Yuuri placed one finger over his lips, pleading with his eyes not to tell anyone. She nodded as he slipped the key into his pocket. Indicating to Mila that he would be right back, he headed for the stairwell, took out his mobile which Phichit had given back to him on the condition that he got to check every day that Yuuri did not delete anything, and called Guang Hong.

“Yuuri?” Guang Hong sounded alarmed. “What happened??”

It took Yuuri a moment to catch on that a call from Leo’s workplace in the middle of the day must put Guang Hong in instant panic mode, and he quickly assured him that Leo was fine.

“I need a huge favour,” Yuuri went on as he hopped down the stairs. “Do think you could come here in a taxi, pick up Victor’s key, and go to his apartment? Someone urgently needs to get Makka. I’ll pay you back for the taxi! The dog sitter had an accident and has been waiting in the ER forever, and Makka’s home alone. She probably needs to go out and I can’t get away, and she’ll be so upset if she makes a mess…”

“Yuuri.” Guang Hong silenced him with just one quiet word. “I’m on my way.”

Yuuri waited in the foyer, answering two more standard phrase calls while pacing up and down by the entrance, trying not to fret over Makka waiting in vain for someone to feed her and take her for a walk.

Fifteen minutes later, Guang Hong jumped out of a taxi that he asked to wait. Yuuri ran out of the foyer to give him Victor’s spare key and directions as well as the number of the dog sitter, just in case.

“Victor doesn’t know, I’ll tell him as soon as I have a chance. But I don’t think he should have to worry about Makka now on top of everything else. Just give me the key back tonight.”

He waved goodbye after the taxi, glad that Guang Hong never asked any questions. The phone was already ringing again, and he took the call as he headed back upstairs.

In the evening Yuuri sat on the floor in Guang Hong’s living room hugging Makka tight, telling her what a good girl she was and apologising for her having to be alone all morning. She had been desperate to go out by the time Guang Hong arrived, yipping by the door and relieving herself in the flowerbed right outside the building.

“The sitter told me she was supposed to take Makka home with her.” Guang Hong had spoken to the woman in the meantime to let her know Makka was fine and to ask if there was anything he needed to know or that they could do for her. “Looks like Victor wasn’t planning on coming home overnight. She said he was so relieved to know that she could take Makka for a few days. She feels really awful not to be able to take care of her now.”

“I didn’t get to tell him yet,” Yuuri was chewing on his bottom lip, worried. “It’s mayhem in there. He’s been pulling all-nighters since last week.”

“Well…” Guang Hong grinned and pointed at the bag and the travel dog bed sitting in the corner of his living room. “I just brought all her things, and if there’s something we forgot she can either have Shi’s or we get it for her. I’m sure he won’t mind as long as she’s taken care of.”

Yuuri grinned back at him. “She can sleep over at mine and I’ll drop her off with Vicchan in the morning. Is that okay?”

“Of course.” Again, Yuuri was glad Guang Hong didn’t ask any questions and just handed him Victor’s spare key back.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Victor rubbed his eyes. He hadn’t slept in two days, and he had spoken to so many shareholders and staff members that he didn’t recognise his own voice anymore. The next morning he would have to stand in front of all their employees and give an update on the situation and the insecure future, trying not to make any promises he knew he couldn’t keep.

His suit was wrinkled and felt clammy. He wanted to go home, for one whole night, not just a few hours like he would later. Take a long shower and sleep in his own bed. He longed for Makkachin, though he was glad to know her with the dog sitter. He hadn’t even had time to check back with the woman how Makka was.

The numbers on the screen began dancing in front of his eyes, differently coloured columns in bar charts blending into one. He hated having to do these fuckers, they were forever mocking him.

Another yawn came over him, so wide it made his jaws ache.

His gaze fell on his keys, sitting in their usual place in a corner of his desk. He remembered something he had read about power naps. He had never believed that this worked, napping until your key dropped to the floor and the sound woke you up. But he was desperate, and inhumanely tired. There were constantly people milling about and barging in, even late in the evening. Like nobody really wanted to be alone at the moment, everyone wanted to stick together. He surely wouldn’t be left alone for long.

He lay down on his side on the sofa, making sure the hand holding the key was hanging over the edge so he would definitely wake up. Within seconds, Victor was fast asleep. He never heard his keys hit the floor.

The insistent sound of the alarm clock on a phone woke him. He rubbed his eyes, trying to come to. Something seemed wrong about the lights. He shifted, wincing when his tense neck protested, wondering why there was a blanket placed over him. He was pretty sure he hadn’t gotten one.

And then it hit him. The lights. Not the artificial ceiling lights of his office. Daylight. It was Friday morning! Shit! Dread made his stomach plummet. His head span with dizziness because he jumped up so fast but he made it to his desk, where he slumped down in his chair. And stared.

At the finished presentation, every number in its place, all charts updated and neat.

A printed version on his desk completed the file open on his desk.

His hand flew up to his mouth as he took in the rest of his desk. His tidied up desk that hadn’t been so neat ever since the chaos had hit. The empty coffee mugs were gone. His keyboard had been pushed up and in its usual place sat a bento box and a thermos flask with what he hoped was coffee.

There were two notes propped up beside the bento. One in Yuuri’s neat handwriting, he picked that up first to read:

_Have some breakfast and coffee before your speech._

_You have time for a shower,_

_and there’s a change of clothes by the door._

Victor looked up, and sure enough, he could see a fresh suit hanging on the back of the door. Socks and underpants were placed on a chair next to the door, and he felt a faint blush come on for a moment as he wondered who could possibly have been through his drawers at home to get those.

He looked at the second note on his desk and frowned when he saw it was actually a print from Instagram. The image showed three very familiar looking dogs, sitting in an orderly row by size starting with Makka, Shi in the middle, and Vicchan on the very right. It was from Guang Hong’s Instagram, Victor realised, as he stared at the caption in confusion:

_We have a guest today, because her dog sitter is sick and her papa is working very hard. Say Hello to Makkachin!_ 🐾 🐾 🐾

Victor jumped up and headed for the door. He took the suit down and placed it carefully across the sofa before he yanked the door open. Outside was madness, just like it had been since this crisis had started.

People were milling about, telephones were ringing, and he saw Yuuri coming from his desk, dressed half casually in black pants and a black polo shirt, speaking on a headset.

“Hold on a second,” Yuuri said to the person on the phone when he spotted Victor. “Good, you’re up. Sara and Phichit are setting up their equipment in the conference room for a livestream so everyone can see your address.”

“Yuuri! What happened to my dog sitter??” Victor asked.

Yuuri was already hurrying on along the hallway, but he turned around, walking backwards as he replied, “She took a fall and sprained her ankle. Don’t worry, I sent flowers on your behalf and made sure she has everything she needs. Makka’s with Guang Hong, getting spoiled even more than from you.”

He gave Victor the faintest hint at a weak smile and a shrug of apology before he turned around and continued speaking on his headset.

Victor closed the door to his office and leaned against it with his back for a moment. He knew this didn’t mean that Yuuri had forgiven him, but at least, hopefully, at least while something so much bigger was on the line for them, they had called a truce.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The next day Victor received a call from Chris that completely unsettled him. The manager had finally talked. Though what he had to say did nothing to shed light on the whole issue, quite on the contrary.

“He said _what?!_ ” Victor barked into his phone. “Chris, you know I would never...”

“Victor, I know! I know, okay? I trust you with my life.”

Victor rubbed his temple with two fingers, trying not to panic. “Chris, if this ever gets out, even though it’s a false accusation, I—”

Chris cut him off. “Nothing’s going to happen to you, do you hear me? Josef’s on it. I’m not going to let anything happen to you, okay! Just trust me, Victor.”

Once he put down the phone, Victor spent almost an hour on the treadmill in his living room, hoping that he would be able to sleep from exhaustion. However, after just a short nap he was lying awake again on this sofa, the silence in his empty apartment unbearable. Before he could change his mind, he grabbed his phone and sent off a text.

**_Victor_ **

_Hello Guang Hong, is there any way I can come by and see Makka? I’m going crazy._

It only took a few minutes for a reply to come in.

**_Ji Guang Hong_ **

_Sure. Yuuri’s not here if that’s what you’re asking. Neither is Leo. ;)_

Another message came in, a picture of Makkachin with the words: _Missing her papa._ 🤎

Victor let out a long breath of relief. He ordered a taxi and headed into the bathroom for a shower. On the way out, he dropped by his neighbour’s whose daughter sometimes watched Makka for him, and asked whether she was interested in a little more pocket money.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

In the lift up to the apartment, Victor’s phone buzzed with a message.

**_Chris_ **

_Got this wanker’s laptop. Josef’s bringing it, he’ll be there on Monday_.

Hoping that this was good news, Victor stepped out of the lift, remembered to turn right and not instinctively left to where Yuuri’s apartment was, and rang at Guang Hong’s door.

Makka nearly toppled him over in the hall already, and he knelt on the floor for the longest time, just hugging her and letting her lick his face, and repeating “my favourite girl” and “my most beautiful girl” and “I’m so sorry I’m working so much these days I can hardly see you” over and over again, burying his face in her fur because he suddenly felt overwhelmed with exhaustion and strangely like crying.

“I’ve spoken to my neighbour and his daughter, and they’ll be happy to watch Makka for me,” Victor said when he had finally moved from the hall to the living room, where Shi and Vicchan hopped on the couch with him alongside Makka. “So I can take her home tonight.”

“Okay.” Guang Hong nodded. “We’ll miss her, but I think you miss each other more.”

“I don’t know how to thank you, Guang Hong. I had no idea, I never even knew I missed all those calls.” Victor pulled Makka instinctively closer.

“There’s nothing to thank me for.” Guang Hong shook his head.

He didn’t need to elaborate further on the ambiguity of his words. Victor knew that Yuuri had been a part of this, and it made his heart weep a little more in his chest, wishing things had turned out differently. And this felt more than a little awkward, being in this building, with one of Yuuri’s best friends, after god knows what Yuuri had told him, and his whole being straining towards the apartment at the other end of the hall. Thank god Guang Hong never asked any questions.

Or so he thought.

“Victor, have you eaten?”

Victor looked up from a lapful of dogs at Guang Hong’s question.

“What, like, today? This morning?” Victor shook his head, confused.

“No, dinner. Leo’s doing one of his weird sports park things, playing badminton and volleyball and whatever all evening. I’m not used to eating alone. Keep me company?”

Victor looked at him for a long time, inwardly wrestling with himself and all kinds of emotions.

“Guang Hong, you really don’t have to…” Victor felt embarrassed by how much he wanted to say yes.

“I _want_ to. We won’t talk about Yuuri or work, okay? Just dogs, and food, and other good things.” Guang Hong’s smile could probably make stones weep, Victor thought. He had no chance.

“Okay.” He smiled tentatively.

“Good.” Guang Hong looked exceedingly self-sufficient as he turned towards his kitchen.

A little while later Victor was seated at the kitchen table, watching Guang Hong serving fried rice that he had formed into beautiful round shapes with the help of a small bowl. It smelt amazing.

“You know,” Guang Hong said as he sat down opposite Victor and poured them each a glass of Chinese plum wine. “When we fall in love with a stubborn person, we need patience and staying power.”

Victor took a deep breath. “I thought we weren’t talking about Yuuri.”

“Who mentioned Yuuri?” Guang Hong smiled innocently and raised his glass of plum wine in a toast.

After dessert of deep-fried bananas with honey and vanilla ice-cream, some laughter, and one last glass of plum wine, this one hot, Victor gathered all of Makka’s things together and called a taxi. He cuddled the two smaller dogs, hugged Guang Hong and thanked him for dinner, and managed to not look at Yuuri’s door more than once as he took Makka home.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Yuuri had accepted an invitation to dinner with the Nishigoris. Ever since the incident with the Japanese delegation they owed to the triplets’ sneaky upload of a video, but even more so since the summer party, he had become good friends not only with Yūko but also with Takeshi. The triplets adored him, and Yuuri adored them too, even though he always felt in dire need of a holiday after spending time with them, preferably in a Zen monastery.

Yūko had made _katsudon_ , knowing that it was Yuuri’s favourite food, and he ate a huge bowl of it, expressing again and again how much he loved it.

“It’s okay, Yuuri-kun,” Yūko teased, “I know it’s not as good as your mother’s.”

Yuuri laughed. It was nice to be out of the house for an evening, to speak Japanese and be surrounded by three little whirlwinds to whom the upcoming live action movie of Aladdin and how it could possibly live up to the Disney animation was much more important than worries on the job.

Just as everyone was quietly eating their dessert of milk pudding, Loop asked, unexpectedly, “Yuuri, are you dating Victor?”

For a moment there was deadly silence around the table.

Then Yūko started yelling at the girls, while Takeshi launched into a string of apologies, both at the same time.

“WHAT DID WE SAY ABOUT ASKING PEOPLE INAPPROPRIATE QUESTIONS???!!!”

“Yuuri, I’m really sorry, they watched this rom com recently and have been obsessed about dating since.”

Yuuri tried to wrestle down the knot in his stomach, the ache in his heart. “No.” He shook his head at the triplets. Swallowed a handful of tears. “I’m not dating Victor.”

Silence followed. The triplets looked at each other. Looked cautiously at Yūko, calculating the risk. And probably thought it was worth taking.

“But Victor is in love with you!” Loop burst out.

“He told us at the summer party!” Axel added.

“That was supposed to be our and Victor’s secret!” Lutz glared at her sisters.

The three grown-ups stared at them like thunderstruck. Then Yūko started yelling again and chased them off to bed. Takeshi apologised some more on behalf of his wife and daughters, and saw Yuuri off by the door, because Yuuri claimed he had eaten too much katsudon and suddenly wasn’t feeling so well and needed to lie down.

The words _summer_ and _party_ were going round and round in his head. He couldn’t possibly! Victor couldn’t possibly have been in love with him, and not already back then. But he knew Victor would never have lied to children, and by the time he arrived at home he actually thought he could smell Victor’s musky perfume lingering in the lift. And that’s when Yuuri knew he was going slightly mad because that was absolutely impossible. He hurried into his apartment and locked the door behind him, wishing he could just shove all his memories and longings outside.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

On Monday morning of the third week, Jamie was packing his few personal belongings into a cardboard box when Yuuri arrived. Behind him, Victor’s door was open, and for a moment Yuuri felt cold dread. Had Victor fired the trainees? Was that part of his grand rescue mission? Jamie seemed quite cheerful though, and Yuuri scrunched his face in confusion.

“What was I supposed to do, Sara?” Victor could be heard speaking on the phone. “If people stand before me telling me they’ll leave unless I promise them their job is secure... you know we cannot promise that to anyone at the moment.”

Realisation dawned on Yuuri, and he slowly faced Jamie again. Jamie’s smug grin got Yuuri’s hackles up.

“Do the smart thing, Yuuri,” Jamie told him. “Come with us, I’m sure I can put in a good word for you at our new company.”

Yuuri’s eyes widened.

“Some people call it smart,” he said slowly. “I call it disloyal and shitty, and really, really disappointing.”

Yuuri caught Victor turning his head from the corner of his eye and knew Victor had heard him. He was pretty sure he had seen a little smile on Victor’s face. It did not make him glad, he reminded himself, and most certainly it did not make him smile a little, too. Not at all.

That afternoon, after having been locked in the room with Josef for hours from the moment Josef had arrived, Victor called a small group of trusted people into his office. He made sure both the doors were closed before he took position leaning against the wall near the door to the conference room. Josef was standing beside Victor’s desk chair.

Leo and Sara were sitting side by side on the sofa, Steph beside them.

Yuuri had been standing with his back to the other door but the memories of the last time he had leaned against this very door were overwhelming so he moved away from it to the window.

“Josef.” Victor nodded at the company’s trusted lawyer and family friend.

Josef cleared his throat and looked around the handful of people. His voice was quiet, but firm.

“What I‘m going to tell you now will never leave this room. This is crucial.”

Everyone nodded.

“Or what will happen?” Leo finally dared ask.

“Victor will be fucked.”

Yuuri straightened automatically.

“It appears the fire in Turkey was arson. Attempted insurance fraud. Now, our estate manager there claims he received emails suggesting to lay the fire and collect the insurance money, splitting the money between them. Chris and I arrived just in time before he could destroy the evidence.”

“Emails from whom?” Sara asked.

“From me,” Victor said. 

Yuuri’s heart skipped a beat.

“What the fuck!” Leo exclaimed. “That is bullshit!”

Josef raised one hand, and Leo instantly retreated into the sofa corner. “It was good that Chris and I went there right away or he would have been on the run. We were able to get the printed emails from him, but we also got his laptop, just in case. Chris is out there and basically has that guy tied to his wrist. If he gets away we have nothing. Can you have a look at that laptop, Leo? Maybe there are some clues.”

“Of course.” Leo nodded.

“Are they real?” Steph wanted to know. “The emails.”

“Yes.” Josef sighed. “They are real and they seem to have been sent from Victor’s email account.”

All heads but Josef’s turned automatically towards Victor.

“Well, that’s easy.” Leo shrugged. “They should be in your outbox.”

“They aren’t.” Josef’s voice was like a hammer falling. He sounded almost insulted that anyone would think he hadn’t checked that option already. It was easy to imagine how he had taken people apart in court.

“Leo…” Victor shook his head as if to say they had already been over this. He looked very tired.

"Luca is with Chris right now, and they speak to the guy all the time,” Josef went on. “I have spoken to him. We all think he’s telling the truth about that. He believes he received those emails from Victor. He’s got no reason to believe otherwise.”

“But Victor would never—”

“We know,” Josef cut Sara off. “But we have nothing to prove the opposite.”

Silence settled heavily over the room.

“That’s why it’s imperative that this never leaves this room. Our employees here rely on Victor. They trust in him to steer the ship through the storm while Chris is handling things on location in Turkey. If Victor crumbles, people will lose hope too. We know Victor hasn’t sent those emails, but we have yet to find out who did. If this gets out and we still have nothing, even I would be hard put to keep him out of jail. We can’t have this. The only reason we haven’t had more people quitting yet is that people trust in Victor and Chris to handle this.”

“Okay.” Sara nodded. “Whatever you need us to do.”

She rose from the sofa and crossed the room in a few of determined strides until she stood before Victor.

“I know you didn’t do this!” she said with vigour and pulled him into a hug. They spoke quietly to each other, heads close, everyone else excluded from their small world.

Yuuri averted his eyes, but not in time not to see how tight Victor’s arms came around Sara’s waist for support.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

On Tuesday morning Leo was trying everything to find those emails sent from Victor’s computer. He couldn’t, and it drove him crazy.

“Of course,” Josef said. “We already know they’ve been deleted.”

“Even so, I should be able to bring them back. We’re saving tons of backlog on the servers for cases such as this. The fact that Victor’s email has been wiped so meticulously clean means some asshole has been messing with my system.” Leo’s fist came down on the desk. This was a personal affront to him.

“If this becomes a police investigation we need more proof than that,” Josef said patiently.

“It _wasn’t_ Victor! First of all, he would never do anything to damage this company, and second, he never cleans up his email. We have to do it for him when we get an alert that he’s running out of server space again. The guy hasn’t deleted his browser history in three years!”

“What! I always....”Victor started but Leo silenced him with just one pointed look.

“Victor, give me five minutes and I’ll tell you exactly which puppy videos you watched on your lunch break two years ago, which bling-bling collars you looked at for Makka’s birthday last year and which one you ended up buying, and every single thing you posted in that poodle lovers forum during work hours.”

Victor shut up.

He watched Leo try something else, to no avail. Then he resolutely reached for his phone and called one of the most recent numbers in his list.

“Guang Hong? It’s Victor. I need your help.”

“Sure. Do you need a dog sitter?”

“No. I need a hacker.”

“I’ll be right there.”

Guang Hong found the emails some time in the late afternoon.

“They were definitely sent from here that Saturday evening. At the same time a software was installed that would set off a precise deletion process, cleaning your email of everything connected to this sender and to this subject. There’s a very precise keyword search in place that makes sure that none of your other emails get deleted and cause suspicion. Also, there’s a setting that has incoming replies from this guy automatically redirected. I don’t know if it worked because he doesn’t seem to have tried to reply.”

“He’s less dumb than I gave him credit for then,” Josef remarked.

Guang Hong leaned over to check the laptop again on which he had worked in parallel. 

“Definitely did not try to reply. There’s no extra software on the laptop. I was able to find and reinstate everything he deleted. No outgoing mails that were redirected.”

“Redirected where?” Victor asked.

Guang Hong looked up. “Russia.”

“Russia?” Victor gaped. “I don’t have any connections anymore, why would anyone from Russia target me?”

He exchanged a look with Josef.

“I’m calling Yakov.” Josef took his phone from the table and left the room with it.

“My work here is done.”

Guang Hong stretched his arms out over his shoulders. His gaze fell on Leo, who was looking at him like he’d just fallen in love all over again. “You are fucking amazing, you know that, Ji Guang Hong?!” he murmured, his voice strangely hoarse.

Guang Hong just smiled and stood up. “Can I have quesadillas for dinner tonight?” he asked as he slipped into his coat and buttoned it up.

Leo took his scarf from his hands and wrapped it lovingly around Guang Hong’s neck himself until he had him tucked in and stood leaning in nose to nose. “Babe, you can have _everything_ tonight!”

Alone with Josef again, Victor went through the printed emails. It was quieter outside now, most people having gone home or back to their desks, and the TV in the conference room finally switched off for the day.

“This is crap, I mean look at this!” He held up one of the sheets of paper. “I don’t write like this!”

“Yeah, but he didn’t know that, did he? He had to assume it was you.”

“But I wasn’t here that weekend,” Victor insisted, perched on the edge of his desk.

“You do work weekends sometimes,” Josef pointed out.

“I know for a fact that I didn’t work that weekend.”

“Can you prove that in any way?”

“I…” Victor took a deep breath. He saw Yuuri in his mind’s eye. Was back in Yuuri’s apartment, kissing Yuuri on his couch. He felt Yuuri inside him, under him, all around him. He remembered every inch and taste and feel of Yuuri’s body. Heard Yuuri telling him about his family, Yuuri’s gasps, Yuuri’s moans, Yuuri’s heartbeat.

“I’m afraid I can’t.”

Josef sighed. “That’s not much to go on.”

“He was with me.”

Both of them looked up at the voice. Yuuri had come in from the conference room. He must have overheard them talking while he was in there. He firmly looked at Josef.

“Victor spent that weekend with me. He came over about 10 AM on Saturday morning with hangover remedies because we got drunk in a club the night before, and he left around 9 o’clock Sunday night. We were together the whole weekend, mostly at my apartment or walking our dogs nearby, except for about forty-five minutes on Saturday evening when Victor went out to collect food he ordered from Celestino’s, which I am sure they will be happy to confirm for you.”

Yuuri slipped out of the room as silently as he had come in.

“Do I want to know?” Josef asked, one eyebrow raised. He’d known these kids since they’d been in nappies, but somehow they never stopped surprising him.

Victor shook his head. Josef put what he hoped was a reassuring hand on his shoulder. He was so not good at handling a sadness like the one he had just seen flare up on Victor’s face.

They stayed late that night to talk to the security guards on duty about that particular weekend, and Josef took the recordings of the security cameras back to his hotel room to go over them again. It still didn’t give them any clues, and the next morning they were back to where they had started the day before when Guang Hong left.

Josef was getting frustrated. They were in the conference room with some other colleagues, nursing coffees and talking quietly about the latest figures that had come in this morning and didn’t look good.

“We need to know who had access to your computer that Saturday and could have sent those emails and installed that software.”

Victor put down his cup. “Josef, I’ve been wrecking my brains. I was definitely not here that weekend, and we’ve questioned Lawrence and Karl back and forth. No outsiders get into the building.”

“Victor, you know what that means,” Josef said sternly.

Victor nodded. The thought that someone from _inside_ could have done this was filling him with dread and crushing disappointment.

“I always told you to have cameras installed on the office floors too, not just the hallways!” Josef scolded. “We would know by now if anyone was up here at your computer!”

“Perhaps I can help with that.”

All heads whipped around at the sound of the unfamiliar voice from the door.

“Georgi,” Victor said, stunned.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

In the newsroom, Phichit, Yura and several other people jumped in their seats when Sara suddenly started yelling in Italian at the laptop screen.

“What?” Phichit was the first to recover. Sara was still leaning close to the screen, reading something with her eyes wide in disbelief while her mouth muttered words that sounded like she was cursing someone.

“Sara, for fuck’s sake, what happened _now_???” Phichit stepped behind her and looked at the screen. It looked like online bank statements, and he knew he wasn’t supposed to see them, but he caught Michele’s name before Sara quickly closed the laptop and reached for her phone, calling up her speed dial menu.

“What is this!” she snapped instead of a greeting and started pacing on front of the desks. “What is this money, Michele Crispino??!!!”

“Funds for rebuilding, the purpose of payment is stated quite clearly,” he replied drily.

“You just sent this without talking to me!”

“I knew you would freak out exactly like this, so I talked to Chris and had Luca draw up an emergency plan.”

“But… but! We wanted to do it on our own, Mickey!” Sara was practically shouting now.

“It’s okay to accept help sometimes, Sara!” Michele sounded just as stubborn as Sara. “You needed help, I helped. I didn’t do this for you but for all of us, this is my company too!”

“I know! I just… I cannot believe it!” And Sara started crying. “Thank you! You stupid idiot, Mickey, thank you so much!!! Thank you, thank you, thank you!!!”

Michele chuckled. “There’s nothing to thank me for,” he said softly. “Get back to work, safe our company.”

“Okay. _Ti amo, stronzo!_ ”

“ _Ti amo, strega!_ ”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Yuuri was standing in front of the mirror in the top floor bathroom, running cold water over his hands and pressing the heels of his hands to his eyes. He had repeated the action at least ten times already, but his eyes still looked red and swollen to him. As they would after a night of crying. He knew he had done the right thing telling Josef, but the memories of that weekend were suddenly so raw, and so unbearable.

The door opened and he flinched.

“Hello,” he murmured and concentrated on the water running down the sink.

Yuuri felt Steph watching him for a moment. Or scrutinising was probably the right word. At last she moved.

“Come in here.” Steph held the door to the ladies’ room open.

Yuuri hesitated, but then Steph in this mood was not to be messed with, so he followed her into the ladies room and leaned against the sink while he watched her close the door.

“Yuuri…” She stepped closer so that they were facing each other by the sink. “I’ve been wanting to tell you for so long, but then all hell broke loose and I never got a chance to speak to you alone.”

Yuuri knew what she meant. The last time he’d been alone with Steph was when he walked in on her with her glass of money from that betting pool. It felt like a whole lifetime had passed since then.

“I am so sorry.” Steph looked genuinely sad. “That day, it was somehow like both of us starting to date someone we’ve been really crushing hard on for a long time, and we were so giddy, and now Luca and I are still together and I feel bad because you...” She couldn’t finish.

“Steph.” Yuuri shook his head. “There’s no need for you to feel bad about anything.”

They remained quiet for a moment, then Steph took a determined breath.

“In any case, I’m the only woman up here so basically I get to reign over this bathroom. You can come in here whenever you feel like a good cry, okay? Victor doesn’t have to know.”

Remembering the day he had already done just that, Yuuri managed a little smile. “Thank you, Steph.”

“You know, those few days you were together...” She faced the sink and started washing her hands. “It was disgusting.”

Yuuri’s mouth opened, then closed. For some reason he felt like laughing. Bitterly.

“I mean, how the whole atmosphere was shimmering with hearts and angels and tooth-rotting fluff because you two were just oozing so many lovey-dovey feels, it was making everyone who witnessed it sick.”

“Okay...” Yuuri hadn’t expected that.

“But I want you to know that we’d all give an arm and a leg now to have that back.” Steph turned off the water and dried her hands, then she leaned with her back against the sink and looked at Yuuri.

“I haven’t really had time to work through this...” Yuuri admitted.

“Understandable.” Steph nodded. “It sucks that the fire and everything else happened now of all times... you’ve never really gotten a chance to talk things over, you just snapped into action and committed to work like we all did. And I dare say we will all come out changed people after this crisis. But I wish for you, the both of you, that you can talk about things afterwards because it really would be a shame to just let it slip away.”

Yuuri couldn’t see that happening but he still nodded. It seemed the polite thing to do.

“And in the meantime I just want you to know, Yuuri, whether it’s now or when this is all over and you’ll have time to think about everything… whenever you need to cry, you can come in here to the ladies’ room. And you can also always go to my chocolate and tissue stash in my office, okay?”

She smiled so sincerely that Yuuri couldn’t help smiling back, feeling very glad all of a sudden.

“What is that stash all about anyway?” Yuuri asked as he stepped past her towards the door, remembering that she would have come to the bathroom for a reason and he should probably scoot now.

“It’s my girl trouble stash.” She grinned. “Haven’t you noticed that Luca likes to do out-of-the-office meetings at certain times once a month? He fears for his life, and I cry and eat chocolate.”

And now Yuuri had to laugh. He thanked her for her kindness and left the bathroom.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Victor was sitting in the conference room next to Josef, facing Georgi who was nervously wringing his hands on the table in front of him. He had declined coffee or tea, even water. The three of them were alone now.

“How did you…” Victor finally started, weary of the ongoing silence and wanting to know what all this meant. “I mean, why did you come by now? After all this time?”

“I keep in touch with some people, Vitya,” Georgi said quietly. “And it’s not like there was any way of not knowing what’s going on.”

Victor nodded.

“I came by to see if there’s anything I could do to help. Answer the phone. Make tea. Then I walked in and overheard you talking about emails being sent from your account and I suddenly…”

He fell silent. Dropped his head.

Victor felt like he suddenly had a rock sitting in his stomach. “Goscha, please tell me it wasn’t you,” he whispered.

Georgi shook his head, but when he looked up his eyes were swimming with tears.

“It wasn’t me. But it was my fault.”

Victor’s hand came down on Josef’s arm as he felt the man ready to jump from the seat beside him.

“Well, if it wasn’t you, who was it?” Josef asked, the restraint audible in his voice.

Georgi took a deep breath. “Anya,” he said quietly.

Victor looked at him like he had suddenly grown a second head.

“The Leonova girl?” Josef asked. Victor turned to him with the same expression, wondering how and why Josef could possibly have Anya on his radar.

“Goscha, talk to us!” Victor urged him.

Georgi spoke softly, all the time kneading his hands nervously before him on the table.

“Anya called me again some time ago. She said she was sorry and wanted to make up. She… was upset and pleaded me to give her another chance.”

“You did not fall for that hag’s acting,” Victor said even though he already knew the answer.

“She wanted to meet here. In the office. A secret meeting. We arrived separately, snuck in through the back.”

Victor and Josef exchanged a look. That explained why there was nothing of use on the security footage of that day; they never saw them arriving through the foyer, nor did the guards.

“If you did anything indecent on any piece of furniture I might have sat on or drunken coffee from, I do not want to know!” Josef threw in, appalled.

Victor kept quiet, but he had similar thoughts and hoped to all the gods above that they hadn’t, for he might just have to have everything thrown out, burnt and replaced, and he really wanted to cling on to his couch and all the memories of Yuuri. Not that he could have voiced these thoughts out loud.

“No. No.” Georgi shook his head. “We were in my chair… by the reception. She was in my lap and we—”

“We get the picture, thank you very much!” Josef interrupted. Victor couldn’t help hiding a slight grin behind his hand. He knew a lot about Georgi’s fantasies that involved Anya and the reception desk, from many a vodka shot induced night, despite his protest that all these would be so much better if another woman was the star of them.

“Then she wanted champagne and asked me to get some from the nearby supermarket.”

Victor became serious in a split second.

“Please tell me you did not leave her alone here in the office.” Victor’s voice was low with restrained dread. And something else. Anger.

Georgi didn’t answer, but his silence, his lowered eyes, were answer enough.

“Fuck, how could you be so stupid!” Victor slammed his hand flat on the table.

“She seemed sincere,” Georgi replied weakly.

“She’s a witch, Goscha, she’s been leading you in circles by your balls for months and fed you her poison until you believed all her bullshit!” Victor was leaning over the table, eyes blazing with fury and frustration.

“How long were you gone for?” Josef asked Georgi and pulled Victor back into his seat by his suit jacket.

“No longer than half an hour. It was Saturday, the supermarket was a bit crowded.”

“That’s plenty of time for her to log in to your computer, send those emails, and install the software,” Josef said to Victor. “Especially if your password is still _Makkachin_ and the year we’re currently in.”

Victor opened his mouth, then closed it. And blushed.

Josef heaved a sigh. “I should have just stayed in my deckchair on Martinique!”

“Oh, come on, Josef, you love this.” Victor gave him a playful pat on the arm. “This gives you life. We all know you’re tired of retirement already.”

Josef muttered something incomprehensible, but the corners of his mouth twitched treacherously.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Anya confessed within one hour of Josef and Steph’s interrogation.

Victor and Sara were on video call with Chris and Luca in Turkey when Yuuri came in with coffee and biscuits. Sara motioned for him to sit down with them, so he did, waving briefly at the screen when Luca spotted him.

“So _that_ was her reason?” Chris was just asking from the screen. “And hi, Yuuri.” Yuuri nodded.

Victor hummed approval. “She claims Yakov and my father screwed over her father in a shady business deal way back in Russia, which led to her father committing suicide and her mother having to scrape through. Had to give up privileges, grow up in poverty, the lot.”

“And she was after the insurance money to make up for that?” Chris asked.

“She claims no.” Victor rubbed his eyes. “She just wanted to ruin us. I think she might have talked to shareholders too and convinced them to sell. I had so many of them reigned in, promising me they would wait a little. An hour later they sold nevertheless. Fuck… the thought that this bitch weaseled her way into our company and plotted this all along!”

“Stop that, it gives me the creeps all over!” Sara exclaimed, shuddering visibly.

“Did they? Screw over her father?” Luca asked.

“No. Yakov is already on his way to the police to give his statement. He kept papers from back then and had them officially translated and notarised ages ago. And Josef, too, either knew or guessed correctly who Anya was. Perhaps they always had a hunch that trouble might come back to bite them in the arse from that deal.”

“Yakov and his hunches.” Sara smiled. “How’s he taking it?”

“You say that like Yakov would actually display recognisable emotions,” Chris commented.

Victor huffed out a brief laugh, but it didn’t sound amused. “I’m pretty sure he’s upset. Lilia’s worried. She’s never worried.”

“He probably blames himself. Thinks something from his past was taken out on us,” Sara said. She faced the screen. “Are you coming home soon? With the shitty pyromaniac?”

“Couple more days to tie things up here and set reparations in motion,” Luca replied. “God, I miss proper showers!”

“And coffee,” Chris added. “Though they feed us well on tea and biscuits here.”

There were chuckles, and then there was silence.

“Bitch hurt us good,” Victor said eventually. Sara wound one arm around his arm and rested her face against his shoulder. Yuuri felt his heart ache witnessing it.

“We’ll come back,” Chris said quietly from the screen. “Like a phoenix from the ashes.”

“Couldn’t resist that one, could you?” Victor laughed quietly, looking at Chris on the screen, who bore more than just a few traces of someone who had spent the morning clearing out a burnt down school, including some forgotten specks of ashes just under his hairline. 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Yuuri frowned at the number on his phone display. The country code said Japan, and for a moment he was worried it was his family checking in. They had seen the news of course, meticulously keeping up with the company their son and brother worked for, sharing all the gift baskets he sent with tenants and neighbours and never failing to tell the whole of Hasetsu how proud they were of their Yuuri.

It wasn’t his family’s number though, and when he picked up the phone and answered in Japanese, he heard Minami’s “ _moshi moshi_ , Yuuri-kun” that was lacking all the usual happy buzz, and Yuuri knew exactly what Minami was calling about.

After listening to Minami stuttering around the “we regret very much” and “considering the current circumstances” and “have decided to refrain from”, Yuuri decided to put them both out of their misery. There was no need to use his countrymen’s fine art of polite rejection on _him_.

“ _daijoubu_ , Minami-kun,” he said solemnly. “ _wakarimashita_.”

“Yuuri-kun...” He heard in Minami’s voice that he had dropped the serious business tone. “ _ano_... I just wanted to say that I am very, very sorry. I hope we have a chance to work together in the future.”

Yuuri could almost see the young man bowing lightly in his mind’s eye and felt very touched.

“ _boku mo_ , Minami-kun,” Yuuri said. He suddenly left like crying, so he ended the call.

He took a couple of deep breaths before he rose from his seat and slowly made his way over to the conference room, where Victor was pouring over their current cooperation possibilities with Sara as well as colleagues from marketing and business development. They all looked up when Yuuri knocked on the doorframe.

“I’m sorry to disturb you but I just had a call from Japan,” Yuuri began. He already saw Victor and Sara’s faces fall with premonition.

“Don’t tell us,” Sara said. “They want to refrain from cooperating with us due to recent events.”

Yuuri nodded. His heart sank when he saw the disappointment on everyone’s faces.

“Just one,” Victor said to nobody in particular. He sighed and rubbed his fingers over the side of his forehead, elbow resting on the table. “If we could just have one deal that would safe salaries, one person who has faith in us...”

Yuuri quietly made his way back to his desk, feeling the general frustration in every cell of his body.

Later that day Yuuri was preparing another meeting when he paused on the way past Victor’s office.

Victor was sitting at his desk, looking straight ahead to where Yuuri knew the collage of photos from the summer party was hanging framed on his wall. There were tears in Victor’s eyes, and he looked utterly destroyed. Yuuri knew he was imposing on something Victor didn’t want anyone to see. He had been holding up all this time, never allowing himself to show the smallest sign of weakness. Wanting to be strong for everyone else. Yuuri had seen the figures. He had seen the payment cuts Victor had drawn up in his rescue plan. The annual bonuses every single employee had been able to receive from a good yearly revenue would be cut. Yuuri knew that Victor had fought so hard for these to be established in the first place. There were other salary cuts in Victor’s proposal, too. All in higher management. Chris’, Victor’s, and Sara’s salaries.

Yuuri knew, too, that even with all these and the emergency funds, they wouldn’t be able to hold every single employee. With the rebuilding, so many shareholders selling, and their bestselling product out of the picture for at least one season, there was no way around personnel cuts. Yuuri couldn’t even imagine how much that must pain Victor. Victor, who carried a torch for every single employee of this company.

Yuuri turned away from the door, his heart tearing up his chest, everything inside him screaming to go into Victor’s office and give him a hug, shoulder some of the worry for him. But he couldn’t bring himself to it. The moment he even thought about touching Victor, the pain flared up inside again like a reminder. He could not just skip over what had happened. He could do something else though.

He took out his phone and sent a message to Sara.

Victor looked up when Sara walked into his office.

“Hello darling.” He braved a smile. Wiped at his eyes. “Please tell me you didn’t come with more bad news.”

“No. Just with a lot of love and care. Some little bird whispered to me that you’re in need of a hug.”

“Who…” He fell silent, his gaze darting instinctively towards his door. To where across the hall from him, he knew was Yuuri.

“He cares.” Sara answered his silent question. “Perhaps, when all this is over…” She left the words unspoken in the air, not wanting to give him false hope. She knew how stubborn Yuuri could be.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

_[Chris is sitting on a pile of charcoaled rubble, wearing dark green cargo pants, black loafers, and a simple black T-shirt. A little girl sits beside him with her mother, both of them tanned and black-haired, in simple white dresses. The little girl has some wild flowers braided into her hair._

_“Hello.” Chris waves into the camera. They little girl waves too. Her mother smiles shyly._

_It looks like someone is filming this with a phone._

_“I’m sitting here on what is left of our hazelnut farm in Turkey after a terrible fire destroyed our harvest. And not only that – it caught on nearby buildings, which were the homes of the people working for us. Luckily, nobody got hurt. But many people lost their homes.”_

_The camera zooms out, the person filming walking backwards and moving the camera over the rows of burnt down trees in the background, then pans to the left to show burnt out buildings behind Chris._

_The camera zooms back in on Chris. He places one arm around the little girl._

_“This is my friend, Leyla. Leyla is six years old and went to school right here while her parents worked on the hazelnut farm. Unfortunately, Leyla’s school was also destroyed in the fire.”_

_Chris looks into the camera. “We have an amazing team of people here, and we will all work together to restore this place. We will rebuild Leyla’s school so that she can study and come to work in my company when she’s grown up.” Chris tousles her hair. The mother translates for the little girl._

_Leyla nods with vigour and says something in Turkish. “She says she wants to be your secretary when she’s grown up,” her mother translates._

_Chris laughs. “I already have a secretary who’s doing a great job, but we’ll see what we can do.”_

_Again, Leyla’s mother translates, and the little girl looks determined, as if she wants to say ‘I don’t care who your secretary is, I’ll send them packing as soon as I’m big enough.’_

_Chris faces the camera again._

_“So this is what’s happening here. We thought we’d show what’s going on behind the scenes, what you don’t see on the TV channels. We are shocked, and sad, but we have hope, and we’re all in this together. And to my amazing team at home – thank you, each and every one of you, for holding up in these horrible days and for coming in to work and keeping the faith. I know what all of you are doing, and I want you to know that I think you’re all fantastic. Thank you so, so much!”_

_Chris waves into the camera, calls “Bye bye” and Leyla follows suit, calls “Bye bye” in English, and then the both of them blow kisses before the recording stops.]_

The crowded conference room shook with applause, whistles and enthusiastic knocking on the table the moment the video ended.

“Fuck, he is _so_ good at this!” Sara turned towards Victor, beaming from one ear to the other.

Victor shook his head, smiling in slight disbelief, a characteristic reaction of his to Chris.

“The recording was a little unsteady and the ending quite abrupt, but then I guess my boyfriend became a lawyer for a reason and not a cameraman,” Steph said, but her eyes looked a little moist.

“How did you know it was Luca filming?” Sara laughed.

“Who else could it be?” Steph snorted. “But that little girl! She totally stole Chris’ thunder.”

“She’s going to give me a run for my money,” Yuuri grinned. He turned his head to his right. “Peach?”

“Well…” Phichit peeled himself off the door frame where he’d been watching the video with his arms crossed in front of his chest. “At least he’s great as a boss, given the fact that he’s such a failure as a human being.”

He made his way over to Sara, who wanted the video up on all their social media sites immediately.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Yuuri paused typing and leaned back for a moment. There were discussions taking off again that he didn’t need to put down in the minutes in detail. One month into the crisis and the financial disaster was beginning to take definite shape. Their local suppliers had proved amazingly loyal, but the sold shares had made their company stock plummet and they were still at an all-time low. The Japanese were not the only formerly interested cooperation partners who had ceased talks. The insurance was, naturally, holding off reimbursement. Surplus funds wouldn’t cover all three needs: reparation and rebuilding, preventing job cuts, and buying in raw ingredients so that the production of their chocolate spread didn’t have to be stopped and they had a chance of recovering.

Buying hazelnuts to replace those they had lost in the fire proved to be much harder than they had initially reckoned with. Isabella had been travelling to potential suppliers for quality checks, paying for flights with her own money. It all came down to one problem: prices for the high quality organic hazelnuts they needed were skyrocketing.

“You mean those wankers raise the prices on purpose?” Yura asked, outraged. When several people nodded, he swore.

Yakov looked at him with disapproval. Yakov came in regularly these days, and nobody could say whether it was for moral support or whether he felt responsible for what had happened.

“It’s the market, Yura.” Victor smiled patiently. “Supply and demand. They know we urgently need what they can offer, so they’re trying to make as much profit from our bad luck as possible.”

“But that’s... evil!” Yura announced.

“Would you do it differently? If you had a good product, goals to meet, employees to pay?”

Yura thought about this for a moment. Then he huffed out something that sounded like “Probably not.”

A moment later he piped up again. “Why don’t we just buy other nuts? Those we can afford. Since we’re always number two or three behind Nutella anyway.”

“Because you need high quality ingredients to make a high quality product!” Phichit rolled his eyes at him. “Jeez, Tiger, you should be interning in business for dummies, not in social media with me!”

Victor leaned back in his seat again. Yuuri was watching him furtively. He still looked so gaunt, so exhausted. His suit jacket had been shed somewhere, he sat in the meeting in just his shirt. His hair was half-heartedly styled, dark circles were around his eyes. Apart from the words he’d been exchanging with Yura he had mostly been thoughtful and subdued, watching the discussion for some time, listening to Otabek and Seung-gil going back and forth over the numbers.

Emotions were running high as the ongoing tension began to wear everyone down. The actual fear of losing one’s job was starting to loom frighteningly real over some people. Seung-gil wiped off something Otabek had just written on the whiteboard and replaced it with a different, much lower number. Everyone could see that Seung-gil’s calculation of capital they had at their disposal to reinvest was much more realistic, and for a moment mind-numbing, silent truth settled on the meeting.

“Take my private funds.”

All heads turned in Victor’s direction. It was so quiet, one could have heard a pin drop on the carpeted floor.

Then, a single booming voice was heard. “No!”

“Yes!” Victor turned to Yakov, defiance sparking from his eyes.

“Vitya! You know your father left that money to you, so that you’d always have a secured living. You were never meant to spend that money!”

“Yakov. This company is my family now.”

Victor stood up from his seat and walked over to the whiteboard. He wiped off Seung-gil’s figure and replaced it with one that had several people in the room gasping and murmuring.

Yuuri gripped his hands because he could hardly clutch his heart in the middle of a meeting. Victor had _that_ much money, inherited from his parents, and he wanted to invest it in the company?! Yuuri dug his nails into his skin and focused on that. Before he either started to cry or flung himself at Victor, or both.

Victor stepped away from the whiteboard and leaned on the conference table with both arms. His hair was a mess, the sleeves of his slightly crinkled shirt were folded up to his elbows and his tie was crooked, but for the first time in days there was a shine to his eyes and a genuine smile on his face.

“Vitya. That money is securely tied up,” Yakov said, but he already looked like a man resigning to his fate.

Victor grinned. “Then get it out, Yakov. I’m sure my parents would understand.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Victor was sitting at his desk, tapping an impatient rhythm on the wood with a pencil. He was waiting for people to call him back, and the fact that they didn’t had him irritated. He had done everything he possibly could, but it still didn’t seem enough. His mind was reeling. Perhaps another promo. Or, perhaps another phone call to Japan. Perhaps Yūko had an idea. He jumped up, rushed towards the door and ran smack into Isabella’s arms.

“Victor!” She gripped his upper arms tight to stop him in his tracks. “I need to talk to you!”

“Bella, darling, I can’t right now.” He shook his head. “I really appreciate you taking the time to go over all possible cooperations again with me last night, even though we know it’s pointless because nobody wants to work with us at this mo—”

“Victor, turn on the TV!” she interrupted, urgency in her voice.

“Darling, I really don’t want to see any more of our drama...” he pleaded, getting impatient.

“Well, you want to see _this_!” She spoke with so much determination that Victor became still and let himself be marched by Isabella past the reception towards the conference room. She left him standing by the door and hurried over to switch on the large flatscreen TV. People were rushing in, something clearly having made the rounds for there was a noticeable aura of excitement and disbelief.

“Vitya.” Yakov’s voice came from the other doorway, the one by Victor’s office. “Watch.”

“Oh my god!” somebody murmured beside Victor.

He moved further inside the room as everyone rushed forward, crowding around the TV screen, where the usual business channel announced breaking news. Sara slumped down in one of the chairs, eyes glued to the screen, then she started crying. Mila was beside her within an instant and placed one calming hand on her shoulder, and Sara reached up with one hand, fingers curling tight around Mila’s.

“The Canadians are pushing the deal forward.”

Phichit said out loud what everyone was having trouble to believe.

“But that means....” Yuuri fell silent.

Yakov nodded. “This deal secures employees’ salaries. We won’t have to let anyone go.”

_Leading Canadian maple producers Leroy & Sons enter planned cooperation with Crispino & Giacometti._

the text running along the bottom of the TV screen said.

The female presenter talked about how negotiations had been well underway for the past couple of months, of course also recapitulating the recent major crisis, which made it even more surprising that Leroy chose to invest in their organic range and cooperate with regards to several products at this point.

“The CEO’s son and managing director, Jean-Jaques Leroy, is heading out to Europe in the next couple of days to sign all the necessary contracts and get first projects on the way.”

The young man in question was currently seen on screen, tanned and handsome with an undercut and styled black hair and light eyes, in black suit and tie. He was expressing his full confidence in Crispino & Giacometti while smiling quite a deadly smile and winking obnoxiously into the cameras. _All_ the cameras.

“What the hell…” Yura muttered, frowning at the screen. “Who’s that tosser? Ouch!”

He glared at Phichit, who had given him a light slap to the back of his head, reaching out instinctively without even looking.

“Shit, look at that!”

Somebody pointed at the stock prices currently shown on screen. Since news were out, the Crispino & Giacometti shares had already climbed again by a few points. Cheers were heard while most people could only look in astonished relief, trying to grasp what was happening, and Sara was on her feet now, crying harder and laughing at the same time, hugging Mila in what looked more like rocking a giant doll enthusiastically.

Yuuri was watching Victor.

Victor had been staring at the TV screen, shell-shocked, one hand clasped before his mouth while his eyes teared over, until the immense relief became visible in the way his tense body relaxed. He looked up and mouthed a heartfelt ‘Thank you!’ across the room at Isabella who was standing by the TV, smiling with tears in her eyes. And Yuuri knew, then, that she might have put in a good word with the younger Leroy that had put an end to his father’s several-month-long faltering. Yuuri’s heart fluttered in his chest when people started to turn around to Victor, and he watched Victor getting his shoulders patted and his hands held, employees forgetting all inhibitions towards a boss and just engulfing him in hugs and thanks. And then Yuuri found himself face to face with Phichit and his best friend was beaming and pulling him into a half hug, half dance, before Yura hugged him so awkwardly as if he had never hugged another person in his young life, and Yuuri simply hugged Yura back and laughed.

It was over.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

That night, Victor’s phone rang just as he was getting into bed. Petting Makka with one hand he looked at the name showing on the display before he picked up with a tired “Hi.”

“Just landed. In the car home now.”

“Good.”

“We did it.”

“Yes.”

“How the fuck did we manage that?”

Victor’s chuckle was not unlike the one at the other end of the line.

“You kicked butt out there. Thank you.”

“Thank you for holding the fort.”

“Anytime, darling.”

“I fucking love you, man.”

“Yeah, yeah, stop crying. We need sleep.”

“Fuck you, Victor.”

“I love you too, Chris. Go to sleep.”

Still smiling, Victor set his alarm, then dropped his phone on the carpet beside the bed, cuddled up to Makkachin, and gladly passed out.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Chris was standing beside Yuuri’s desk the next morning when the lift arrived with a ping and Victor stepped out. For a moment they just stood and looked at each other. Then the biggest smiles either of them had smiled for a long time spread across their faces. It turned into laughter as Victor crossed the distance between them in a couple of long strides. They hugged for the longest time.

Eventually Chris picked up the receiver from Yuuri’s phone and dialled a number off by heart.

“Sara! Get up here!” he said. “We’re one person short of a ‘We’ve just saved our company’ group hug’!”

It took Sara less than three minutes.

Yuuri smiled quietly to himself behind his computer screen. Their relief and happiness were contagious, and from time to time he found himself looking up, drawn by their energy like he had been by their picture in a magazine years ago. When his gaze accidentally met Victor’s, for the first time since everything, they did not look away and just kept smiling at each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're still here reading this: thank you, from the bottom of my heart! I love you! <3 I promise the bad things are over now, and look - did you see there's another chapter added to the total count??
> 
> _________________________________________________  
> A few translations:
> 
> the Italian in Sara and Mickey's phone call - "I love you, arsehole." - "I love you, witch!"
> 
> Yuuri's Japanese on the phone to Minami - "It's okay, Minami-kun... I understand." and "Me too."
> 
> And the 'cat's table' xD - this is actually me using a German expression in English because I think it sounds cuter than just side table, and since this fic is supposed to be located in a German speaking country, I think people in an international company would consciously and jokingly use a false translation of a German phrase like an insider joke, because I know things like that creep in.


	11. The Shape of My Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Idiots. Friends. A party. A dance battle. A breakdown. Talks. Love. Smut. 
> 
> So much love and smut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a monster of a chapter. It is the absolute longest one yet. I'm not sorry. After the overwhelming response to last week's chapter I threw all limitations as to word count per chapter out the window and went with my gut (not like I had anything like word guidelines per chapter in the first place, I never did, I end the chapter by plot where I see it fit). I decided that for the final chapters, these boys and you, you amazing people, deserve EVERYTHING. Everything I still had up my sleeve for this story, and I decided to not skip anything for something as silly as chapter length. I want to tell every part of this story as it's been in my head. Please love this chapter. It's ginormous. I don't think anyone will complain about chapters being too _long_ though. ;)
> 
> And I've added another one. Yes. Another chapter. Because there were so many loose threads I still wanted to pick up, and I realised they would make a chapter of their own. God knows you guys deserve it. 
> 
> We have a bit more idiocy in here, and one very big idiot who's reaching his lowest low. Our boys, however, are reaching all the highs. ❤️
> 
> Last weekend was the absolute best weekend I have had since I started writing and posting this story. The reactions blew me away. I was honestly so worried about chapter 10. You've all proven me wrong and I cannot thank you enough or tell you HOW much that made me feel. I am beyond grateful. Thank you all so very much! I want to throw hearts at each and every one of you.  
> 💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝

**11 – Shape of My Heart**

About two weeks later Yuuri was placing the mail on Chris’ desk, then reached for the empty coffee cup and saucer to place it on the tray he had used to carry the mail in.

“Yuuri.”

Yuuri straightened at the sound of Chris’ voice. 

“It’s probably not my place to say anything…” Chris started, and Yuuri felt dread rise inside.

“You’re right. It’s not,” he said, picked up the tray and walked to the door.

“Yuuri.”

Something in Chris’ voice made him pause, something that had perhaps grown over the past couple of weeks while he had watched him handling a crisis with much more grit and courage he had given Christophe Giacometti credit for and which had breached some of the disdain towards him in Yuuri’s heart and mind.

“I know this is probably of no importance to you but I want you to know, I never had any intention of taking Victor up on that bet.”

Yuuri turned around to look at him.

“Victor’s a good man.” Chris looked at him. Solemn. Sincere.

“You’re wrong,” Yuuri said quietly. He left Chris’ office and closed the door. Outside, he leaned back against the wood for a moment, thinking about what he had said to Chris and what he hadn’t.

_You’re wrong. Victor is not just a good man. He’s the best of men._

Yuuri pushed himself away from Chris’ door and carried the tray over to the tea kitchen. He put the cup, saucer and spoon in the dishwasher, put the tray in its accustomed place in the drawer, automatic motions he would have been able to perform in his sleep. He slowly walked back to his desk. His gaze fell on Victor’s open office door. Victor was speaking on his mobile phone. The moment their eyes met across the hall Yuuri saw that change in Victor he had seen so many times lately. Victor got up from his desk and walked around it. He cast another stolen glance at Yuuri before he closed his door.

Yuuri’s heart sank. He couldn’t even say when he had noticed the difference. Whether it was just the time that had passed, or the upsetting things they all had gone through over the past couple of weeks. Whether it was a difference in Victor or in the way _he_ perceived Victor, but he knew now. That Victor avoiding him, closing doors, lowering his eyes, was not because Victor couldn’t face him.

It was because Victor thought that _he_ couldn’t face Victor. He did it for him, did it because he believed he could make it easier on Yuuri if he kept his distance, thinking that this was what Yuuri wanted. Somehow Yuuri had missed the right moment to talk to Victor after the crisis had been over. Now, he couldn’t help feeling that they had drawn up new grounds but neither of them dared cross the invisible border.

Yuuri took a deep breath. When it felt shaky, he opened a new window on the messenger.

**Yuuri Katsuki**

**_online_ **

_I’m not feeling well… something I ate_

_is it okay if I go home?_

**Christophe Giacometti**

**_online_ **

_of course_

_feel better, Yuuri_

**Sara Crispino**

**_online_ **

_I’m speaking to him right now_

_he doesn’t want us to take him out_

_says he’s fine_

**Christophe Giacometti**

**_online_ **

_I’ve just given Yuuri the rest of the day off_

_says he’s not feeling well_

**Sara Crispino**

**_online_ **

_I bet he is_

**Christophe Giacometti**

**_online_ **

_I feel awful_

**Sara Crispino**

**_online_ **

_you should_

**Christophe Giacometti**

**_online_ **

_I should have kept my mouth shut_

**Sara Crispino**

**_online_ **

_what else is new_

_Chris, if I ever find out you did this on purpose I swear I’ll contact my cousins in Sicily and have them ask around if they know anyone in the concrete business!_

_you weren’t here, Chris! You didn’t see them together those few days, you didn’t see how happy they made each other_

_while you were in Paris crawling up the ass of that complete waste of space and everything you have to give, your best friend was the happiest I’ve ever seen him, and you weren’t here_

**Christophe Giacometti**

**_offline_.**

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Guang Hong was surprised to see Yuuri in the middle of the day to pick up Vicchan. He watched him for a moment, cuddling the small poodle like he needed so much more than just an overexcited dog to lick his face and nudge his chin with his head.

“Let’s go to the park,” Guang Hong decided. “These two need some fresh air, and so do I.”

“Don’t you have work to do?” Yuuri motioned at the laptop sitting open on the small desk by the window where he knew was Guang Hong’s preferred work place.

“Nah, I’m good. I could do with a break.”

They set out to the nearby green, and Yuuri tried not to think about how he had walked this very way holding Victor’s hand, their poodles excitedly skipping along in front of them. And everything that had happened after that. He felt Guang Hong watching him, patiently. Knowing his friend would wait until he talked, always listening, never prying.

They sat down on the same bench Yuuri had sat on that day, throwing sticks for the dogs, taking pictures for Guang Hong’s Instagram. Guang Hong insisted on taking some pictures of Yuuri with Vicchan. Yuuri indulged him, even though he didn’t like his picture taken. His phone beeped and buzzed moments later when Guang Hong sent all the pictures on to him right away.

“Sometimes it’s good to make new memories when they old ones are too heavy,” he smiled.

Yuuri tried to smile back but he guessed his face looked as much of a grimace as it felt.

“What if I don’t want to?” he asked, took the stick from Vicchan’s mouth and threw it again, looking forlornly after the small chocolate coloured fur ball as he took off across the green. “Make new memories?”

“Then that’s fine as well.” Guang Hong repeated Yuuri’s earlier action with the stick Shi brought him.

“I miss him.” Hands stuffed in his coat pockets to keep them warm, Yuuri kicked at a few crumpled brown leaves at his feet, the edges already frost-bitten. “Peach would probably tell me some women’s magazine bollocks now about how after the first tears there comes rage and after that there comes melancholy. And he wouldn’t even be wrong, because I’m feeling so…” He fell silent on a huff.

“You’re pining.” Guang Hong took the sticks from both dogs and threw them again.

“I didn’t even feel this pathetic when I had a crush on him and tried not to get my hopes up.”

“You never talked this out with each other. Of course you’re stuck, you won’t be able to move on in any direction unless you do.”

“I was never scared of talking to him.” Yuuri shook his head. “No matter how anxious I felt, I was never scared of approaching him. When we kissed and I thought he was still engaged to Isabella and then thought it was my fault that they broke up, not even then. Why am I now?”

Guang Hong turned his head to look at him with his eyebrows raised. “Because he hurt you and you’re scared you can’t trust him, of course. But you know this, right?”

Yuuri nodded and hummed low in his throat. The dogs were back and this time he threw both sticks.

“I really miss him, Guang Hong. I miss looking at him across the hall at work, and all his silly little quirks. The way he says my name, when he draws out the ‘u’ in the middle, and even his stupid pouting. The way he smells. Sometimes I think I can smell him in the lift when I arrive at work shortly after him. I actually thought I could smell him in our lift that night I came home from Yūko’s.”

“You probably did.”

Yuuri’s head swung round, his eyes wide.

“He came to see Makka and take her home.” Guang Hong had the grace to blush. “I fed him dinner.”

It actually made Yuuri laugh a little. “What _is_ it about that man that always makes us want to feed him?”

“He’s cute.” Guang Hong laughed. “When he gets home-cooked food, he’s so genuinely happy. That’s cute.”

Yuuri petted Vicchan’s head before his threw his stick again.

“That’s probably what I miss the most.” He kept his eyes lowered, poking at the leaves again with his foot.

“The little things. That small glimpse at… I dunno, domestic life sounds ridiculous, but that’s what I mean. Cooking and sitting down to eat together. Washing and drying dishes. Going to bed.” He groaned. “God! The sex! That was… mind-blowing.” Yuuri felt himself blushing.

“I know what Phichit would say, so I never tell him this. He would say there’s a million other guys out there I could have great sex with. But I don’t want that. I want the intimacy. I want to feel how I felt with Victor. That’s what I miss. I can still feel him, Guang Hong. I feel like I don’t ever want anyone so close to me again. It hurts. I wake up in the night and hear him say my name.”

After a long silence during which the dogs came back again and settled at their feet, Guang Hong spoke.

“I understand. I know what Peach would say, but I understand you, Yuuri. I know what it’s like when one places all this in one person. Leo is my first and my only. I know what some people think about that concept. I don’t care. This is my way. I can only do what makes me happy.”

“You have the confidence and the self-assurance of twenty people,” Yuuri told him.

Guang Hong shrugged, smiling. “It’s been a long and painful process to shed everything else.”

On the way home they were silent, until they stepped out of the lift and went off in different directions to their apartments.

“Yuuri.”

Key already in the lock, Yuuri turned around when he heard Guang’s Hong’s voice. His friend was standing in a similar position, ready to unlock his apartment door but looking back, half turned.

“Do you remember when you told me it’s the worst for you to think that Victor is sad, or lonely?”

Yuuri nodded. “You don’t need to ask the question. The answer is: all the time, Guang Hong.”

He thought about Victor feeling sad and lonely all the time.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Phichit stifled a yawn as he pressed the button to call the lift. It was late, way past his normal hours, but they still had so many comments and reactions to comb through and reply to on all their social media channels, they could barely keep up. The lift arrived and the door opened.

Victor was already in it.

“Hi.” Phichit stepped inside, wishing he had taken the stairs.

“Hi.” Victor nodded faintly.

They were silent all the way down, Phichit staring at his shoes, Victor at the floor numbers, willing them to go down faster. The lift arrived on the ground floor and Phichit moved the moment the door opened, muttering a quiet goodnight.

“Phichit…” Victor started.

He turned around. “Leave it, Victor. I don’t want to know.”

Phichit left, the utter sadness on Victor’s face haunting him all the way home.

He went straight to Yuuri’s apartment.

Yuuri wasn’t in the best of moods, Phichit noticed almost immediately. He saw it in the way he sat in the sofa corner, knees drawn to his chest, face scrunched deep in thought, lips pressed close together. Not quite a bout of anxiety, but a lot of grumpy, Phichit diagnosed.

“So. Are you feeling better?” Phichit asked casually. He didn’t sit down, and Yuuri didn’t ask him to.

“Fine.” Yuuri blinked behind his glasses and hugged his knees.

“Good.” Phichit nodded. “I met Victor in the lift on my way out.”

He saw the smallest tremble in Yuuri’s shoulders, just before he hugged his knees tighter.

“He looked like hell.”

No reaction from Yuuri, only that slight strain in his face as he tried to remain unmoved. Phichit sighed deeply.

“Yuuri, I still think he’s sincere and that you should talk to him. Hear him out.”

“I can’t, Peach,” Yuuri mumbled.

“Why not?” The challenge in the question was not even the slightest bit hidden.

Yuuri had no answer. Phichit sighed again. He’d expected as much.

“He’s been sad ever since this stupid thing came to light. Why would he be if he didn’t genuinely care for you and is heartbroken?”

Yuuri made a dismissive sound back in his throat.

“Yuuri.” Phichit started counting silently in his head. Yuuri was surely testing his patience.

“Phichit. Don’t you think I’ve had that thought myself?” Now Yuuri was looking at him, eyes shining. “But every time I try, I remember that he had a bet with Chris about sleeping with me. Sleeping with me, Phichit. Not… pull a prank, or some stupid shit. Sleeping with me! And Chris asking me out for a drink after that first aid class, what was that all about? Mila said he was trying to set me up with Chris, and when I told him in Milan he went all funny…asked me if I’d let him if he was. What if he was, Peach? I cannot stop these thoughts. They pop up, every single time I think it’s enough now and perhaps I should talk to him.”

“Not perhaps - you _definitely_ should talk to him! Yuuri, we’ve been over every single bit of this so many times. You will never know the answers until you ask the questions, and you need to ask _him_.”

"He’s avoiding me! Today he closed his door again when he caught me looking over.”

“Are you sure it’s not you avoiding him? Or him trying to stay away because he thinks he’s doing you a favour?”

“Of course I’m not sure, you know me, Peach!”

“There’s something about this bet that doesn’t add up.” Phichit put his hands on his hips. “Was is about getting Chris to sleep with you, or about who of the two would sleep with you first?”

“Does it matter?” Yuuri asked. The word ‘bet’ still flicked a switch that instantly brought out the worst in him. He had never felt so fucked over in his life.

“I think it does! Because if this was just about getting you to sleep with Chris, then Victor was probably blindsided by the fact that he developed feelings for you himself and the whole bet was moot.”

“I don’t care. I really don’t care, Peach. This is over! It’s probably best if I don’t even try to get back together with Victor. I mean… why doesn’t he try to apologise again? I see him every day and he never once tries to talk to me. Hell, I wish I didn’t even need to see him at work.”

“Then why are you still working there? Why haven’t you asked to be transferred to a different department then?”

“Are you implying I want to be around him?” Yuuri snapped. “It makes me sick to my stomach to see him!”

“Because you care about him.”

“Phichit! Shut up!”

“Because you’re in love with him, Yuuri! You’re pissed off with yourself because you miss him so much and can’t bring yourself to talk to him.”

“I’m not! It’s over. I stopped.”

Phichit snorted.

“Yuuri Katsuki, I love you like Thor loves his hammer but you are the most stubborn person I have ever encountered in my entire life, and that’s rich coming from a social butterfly such as myself!”

They stared at each other for a long moment, chests heaving, eyes blazing.

“Fine.” Phichit pulled out his phone and unlocked the screen. “I wasn’t going to show you this out of consideration and not wanting you to hurt any further, but you are just the most _infuriating_ , _impossible_ … never mind. Here. Watch this and tell me this is all an act!”

Yuuri’s eyes narrowed when he heard the music from the video Phichit had already started to play. He refused to take the phone. ‘Euphoria.’ It felt like an icy hand gave his heart a good squeeze.

Phichit let out a frustrated growl. He perched down next to Yuuri on the sofa so there was no room for Yuuri to run or hide as Phichit forced his phone on him.

“Watch his and tell me it’s all an act!” Phichit repeated, and he wouldn’t take no for an answer.

He started the video again from the beginning, and Yuuri took the phone from him with trembling hands to bring the small screen a little closer to his eyes.

Yuuri swallowed hard as he saw himself on the screen, saw himself with Victor, laughing, dancing, never taking their eyes off each other, moving together like two halves of one whole. He watched himself getting dipped slightly by Victor on the dance floor and was right back there again. He could feel Victor’s arms around him, could feel the firm muscle under his own hands as he held on to Victor’s arms. He could feel warmth, flowing between their bodies. He could smell the foggy stench of the dry ice again, hear the hiss as it engulfed the dance floor, and he wanted to close his eyes to the blue laser beams.

He watched them look at each other, smile at each other, breath and heartbeat in synch with their lips pausing just this close before an actual kiss.

Yuuri gave the phone back to Phichit. Tears were running from his eyes now, but he didn’t speak. He knew there was nothing he could possibly have said. Phichit was right.

“I know,” Phichit murmured and ran his hands over Yuuri’s back in comforting circles as he hugged him. “You can see it, right? How completely and utterly in love you are with each other. Whatever that bet originally was, it had nothing to do with how you feel about each other. It was long over.”

Phichit squeezed his eyes shut because the burn in them was becoming overwhelming. He hugged Yuuri tighter because suddenly he wasn’t sure anymore who was holding whom now.

“Send me that video, Peach?” The question was almost lost by Yuuri’s quiet sobs.

“Of course.”

When Yuuri had calmed down, Phichit felt it safe to try again. “Talk to him. At least try. Yuuri, it’s November. You could be spending your birthday with him. I bet the guy is amazing at dates.”

Tell me about it, Yuuri thought, who was still envious of a favourite movie scene recreated for a first date by Victor for his ex years ago.

Phichit petted Yuuri’s hair. “Shall we deep-fry some papadums now and skulk around the internet to see if there are pictures of Deepika and Ranveer’s wedding yet?”

Snivelling quietly, Yuuri nodded.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Victor was on the treadmill in his living room. He had long pushed himself past the point of exhaustion but he still ran on. Clear liquid was dripping down on his shirt, pants, the treadmill, impossible to say whether it was sweat, or tears, or both. The pulse metre was flashing an angry red in warning. Victor ignored it. On the TV screen in front of him ‘Kuch Kuch Hota Hai’ was playing. He had skipped back several times already to play that sad song again and again, watching a crying Anjali mourning her one true love she couldn’t have. The subtitles displayed his sentiments perfectly, he thought it every goddamn single time.

_I am not in your heart… I don’t know what to say anymore…_

Chris came in from the kitchen, took in the situation with one glance and quickly headed over. He set the two bottles of beer he had brought down on the coffee table and stepped up to the treadmill to press the _Off_ button. Reaching quickly for Victor, he steadied him as he stumbled when the treadmill came to a sudden stop. Chris helped him down, placed a towel around his shoulders and led him to the couch where he made him sit and handed him a beer.

He got Victor to take off his sweaty shirt and change into a jumper he fetched for him from his closet.

For the rest of the evening he sat with Victor, their feet on the coffee table in front of them, only moving to get more beer and to hand Victor the tissue box in a plushy Makkachin cover, occasionally stealing one or the other tissue for himself as the movie on the screen ran its course.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Two days later, on a foggy Friday morning, Victor was looking at Georgi across the meeting table in Chris’ office where usually interviews were held. He knew why Georgi had asked for this appointment, and he hated that he didn’t have better news for him.

“Goscha, you know I can’t take you back after this.”

Georgi nodded. “I know, Victor. It’s okay.” But it didn’t look like it was. Georgi was close to tears.

It had been a sore point of many discussions over the past fortnight, with video calls to Milan where the four of them debated back and forth whether Georgi was to be given another chance at his old job after what had happened. Victor and Sara wanted to. He had always been a loyal, hardworking, popular staff member, and he genuinely regretted his own stupidity. Chris and Michele had been dead against it, even though it sounded like the decision was not Chris’ own but more something to please his father. To everyone’s surprise, Victor had said he would accept any decision that was taken. Chris and Sara had looked at him in disbelief, even Michele from the laptop screen. It wasn’t like Victor not to fight with all he had for any of their employees, especially not someone he considered a friend like Georgi.

Victor sighed. “God knows how much I’d love to. You yourself know best that you did a really stupid thing and by god, Goscha, I really hope you have learned a lesson for life here! I sorely miss you at reception, and with the trainees walking out on us and...”

He exchanged a look with Chris.

Chris cleared his throat pointedly. “I need Yuuri more than ever now, there’s so much to do, now that the crisis is over. He doesn’t have the capacities to spare anymore to be Victor’s secretary too.”

Georgi lowered his eyes, watched with interest how he was kneading his own hands in his lap. His remorse was palpable like an extra person in the room.

“I understand,” he murmured. “I’ve caused immense damage.”

Silence hung heavy over the room for endless minutes.

“Although…” Chris’ spoke up again. “You did help in getting Anya convicted so you actually did help the company a lot. Josef said that would always work in your favour.”

Even Victor looked at Chris in surprise. “Your father would beg to differ,” he reminded him softly.

“Oh, absolutely.” A mischievous twinkle flashed in Chris’ eyes. “He just told me so again, very passionately, this morning.”

“Chris.” Victor sighed. “Your father wants to press charges against Georgi for aiding a criminal act.”

“Ah, but the majority of the board voted against it, with Josef abstaining from voting because he’s involved in the court case. My father is of course annoyed as fuck about it and needed to yell at someone, so he called me, his favourite person to yell at.”

He tried to pass it off with a smile but Victor could see the desperate hurt behind the sarcasm.

“As a matter of fact, nothing would piss off my father more than bringing you back in. I mean, I will have to give you a final written warning, to follow protocol, but...” Chris turned to face Georgi with a genuine smile.

“How about it, Georgi? Take that chance and start again on Monday? We’d love to have you back.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

That same evening, the company Christmas party took place in the very same club where Yuuri and Phichit had done their Bollywood number. Back then, they had been scouting locations for the Christmas party. Victor found it quite ironical that this venue had turned out to the very one.

Dressed in a classic black suit with a berry coloured tie that had a symmetrical pattern of squares worked into it that shimmered to life under light, he and Chris were greeting people in the small foyer where welcome drinks were handed out as people arrived. It felt weird, being back here, where so many memories of Yuuri clung to one place and everything had looked so promising when he had last walked out of here.

Yuuri was already inside somewhere, having arrived with his friends. He had murmured a shy “Hello”, lowering his eyes as he accepted a glass of champagne from Victor. Phichit had rolled his eyes for good measure and Guang Hong had given Victor an encouraging pat on the upper arm as if to say ‘Hang on in there.’ Very optimistic, Victor thought, who wasn’t entirely sure how long he could possibly do so before crumbling.

Sara joined them, and they smiled together into Phichit’s camera, who was going to taking pictures all night with several people from his social media team. Skimming over the pictures on Phichit’s camera, Sara and Victor looked up and exchanged worried glances. Chris’ smile looked forced in every single picture. He was charming and flirty enough, the perfect boss while inside, as they knew as his best friends, they could feel pain bubbling. Victor had spent the larger part of their lunch break wrestling out of Chris just what exactly his father had said during that phone call in the morning. It hadn’t made things better knowing. On the contrary.

“ _Mamma! Papà!_ ” Sara burst into a loud gush of Italian when her parents walked in.

Victor’s gaze automatically went to Chris, and he stepped closer to place one arm around his friend. He had seen the same sad expression on Chris’ face when Yakov and Lilia had arrived.

Chris’ parents did not deem it necessary to interrupt their pre-Christmas skiing holiday to attend their son’s Christmas party. Even Sara’s parents had arrived two days earlier from Milan to stop over for the party on their way to Zermatt. Victor knew that it felt like yet another slap in the face to Chris. It pained him to see that no matter how hard Chris worked, his father never seemed to acknowledge his accomplishments.

“Victor!” Sara and Mickey’s father pulled him into a bear hug like he was one of his own children after he had done with same with Chris.

Pleasantries exchanged, they stood for a moment watching his wife talking to Chris like only a mother could, Chris momentarily relaxed and at ease.

“What did he say now to the boy?” Massimo asked Victor low under his breath. “I’m going to kick his ass anyway in Zermatt, one more point on my list will only make me happier to do so. I haven’t seen Chris this down for a long time.”

It had indeed been a long time, Victor thought. The fact that he didn’t use the very word didn’t mean he’d stopped thinking so, Chris had told him earlier, brushing it off while it made Victor seethe inside like it had when they were teenagers.

“Other than the usual? Laying into him about how much he sucks as a company leader because he’s too soft, and how badly he handled the crisis?” Victor took a deep breath. His face hardened when he even thought about it. “He asked him when he’s finally going to stop being a faggot.”

Massimo sputtered out a salve of hearty swearing in Italian.

He switched back to his accented English. “He actually offered condolences to us when Mickey, too, came out. Because we now lost our last chance at having grandchildren. That’s number one on my list for Zermatt.”

Victor let out a harsh laugh. He knew there was not the least bit of irony in this. The empathy was real.

“No _bambini_ … it’s sad, yes. We are Italian.” He accompanied his words with colourful Italian hand gestures.“But both my children brought home beautiful people who make them happy. What more can a father ask for? Condolences. _Stronzo!_ If I didn’t love this idiot like my own brother I would… ah. Let’s not talk about that tonight. I hear his son has dragged you into some misery of your own.”

Victor rubbed one temple, looking at him sheepishly.

Massimo gave him a fatherly pat on the shoulder. "The problem is that the men in this family were never taught how to love. How will they pass it on to their son? But who am I telling? You know my troubles better than anyone, the hardships of being best friends with a Giacometti.”

Victor had to laugh at that. “You wrote the manual, thank god. I would have been lost without it.”

He made his rounds and greeted people, shaking hands and clapping shoulders, admiring pictures of kids and pets. He stood with Yūko by the buffet for a while, eating his way through the assortment of canapés and laughing about the latest stories about the triplets, telling her to say Hi, to Lutz especially. The dance floor was full, and Otabek had taken over as DJ for the night, accepting requests online throughout the week as he assembled his playlists. Extra seating had been squeezed in wherever possible for those who wanted to take a breather, and groups of people were huddled together, talking with plates in their hands or laps, and glasses in their hands. The question of an open bar or not had been much discussed, their employees surprising them in the end by voting against it after the recent crisis. Everyone paid for their own drinks, though everything non-alcoholic was on the company’s tab, and the punch had actually been made and brought in by a group of people in Sara’s department.

At some point Victor found himself face to face with Isabella. She looked absolutely dazzling in a blue dress that brought out the colour of her eyes and, as it happened, was the same colour as the tie that the man on her arm had chosen for his grey suit. The last time Victor seen her this happy had been in the very early days they fell in love. It seemed like a lifetime ago. They made some small talk, strictly private after they had spent so many hours pouring over contracts and in meetings over the past week. Victor commented on the new ring adorning Isabella’s hand, and she blushed profusely.

“Congratulations, darling.” Genuinely happy, Victor leaned in towards Isabella for a quick hug and kisses on the cheek.

“Jean-Jacques.” He held out his hand. “All the best.”

“Please - call me JJ!” He smiled widely and shook Victor’s hand.

“That tosser was planning on proposing here tonight.” Yura appeared quite suddenly by Victor’s side as Isabella and JJ disappeared in the crowd. “Like it wouldn’t have made a complete fool out of you. I told Yakov when I found out, and Yakov talked him out of it and arranged something with Ciao Ciao. You know, heart-shaped pizza, ring in a glass of champagne, that romantic crap.”

“Yura, that is so thoughtful of you!” Victor chuckled. “I don’t think he even thought that far. He just wanted the grand romantic gesture.”

Yura’s hostility towards him wearing off had been one of the best things for Victor lately. Like with so many other personal issues, they had somehow lost their importance in the bigger picture. Thursday night dinners were a lot more fun again these days.

“I had to be there and take pictures of everything, they said it’s good publicity for the company. It was disgusting!” Yura made a face like he was about to throw up.

“Poor Yura.” Victor placed one comforting arm around his shoulder but his smile widened. “I bet Ciao Ciao gave you free pizza to ease your pain.”

“Oi! Tiger! Get up here!”

Looking around for the voice, they found Phichit yelling down from the dance floor, waving for Yura to come up, where he was currently dancing to some boyband song with his gang as well as Sara and Mila. They were taking the ‘Pass around the bottle’ line of the lyrics literally, a bottle of champagne going round between from which they took hefty gulps while dancing and singing along at the top of their voices like the words were written for them.

_With the undecided, with the ones to try to find a way… Gonna burn the brightest… Gonna watch the night go up in flames…Pass around the bottle, and we'll share your troubles…_

Victor tried not to notice how happy Yuuri looked up there on the dance floor. He tried to reign in the onslaught of emotion this place gave him, tried not to remember Yuuri dancing, Yuuri in his arms. Because if he did, he would be up on that dance floor within an instant and Yuuri would be just there, _in his arms_.

“You go enjoy your evening.” Victor gave Yura a light shove towards the nearest stairs leading up to the dance floor. “I’ll check how Yakov is holding up.”

As he followed Yura with his eyes he spotted Chris, drunk pole dancing on one of the poles up on the dance floor.

“Shouldn’t you be getting him down and stop our CEO from making a complete fool of himself?” He turned at the sound of the voice beside him and found one of their marketing colleagues looking at him with concern.

“No,” Victor shook his head and excused himself as he turned and looked for Yakov.

Yuuri watched Victor walk away with a heavy heart. He had just been about to go down there, approach Victor after finally Yura had gone, _after_ he had waited for Isabella and JJ to move along and then Yura had suddenly been there by Victor’s side and Yuuri had cursed inwardly and for the first time ever wished Yura miles away. But now Victor was obviously trying to get away as quickly as possible, again. Yuuri sighed. He turned back to face the dance floor and found himself nose to nose with Phichit, who, impressively, spoke with his eyebrows alone.

Yuuri shook his head.

Phichit made a dramatic gesture of frustration with both his hands thrown in the air.

“I’m always with you guys,” Yuuri defended himself. “Perhaps he wants to catch me alone…”

“Do you want us to scoot?” Phichit offered.

“No!” Yuuri looked panicked.

“You idiots are hopeless!” Phichit exclaimed. “Must be this location. If you haven’t figured your shit out within the next hour I’ll lock you both in the back office, just so you know!”

“BOYBAND DANCE BATTLE!”

They swung around at Leo’s shout behind them. “Peach! Yuuri! You’ll be Team Europe!”

Discussion forgotten, Yuuri and Phichit looked at each other and then at Leo, then burst out laughing with several other people around them. Their company Christmas parties were legendary amongst other things for their Head of IT completely letting his hair down, questionable music issues included. 

Several people had gathered around in a circle, leaving the centre of the dance floor free. Seung-gil stepped into the middle, looking important with his arms crossed in front of his chest.

“So! The rules!”

He cast a sharp look around that had everyone present automatically stand to attention.

“I would like to point out in advance that these rules were made by Leo after the consummation of several glasses of champagne, so don’t complain to me when they suck. Otabek is going to play a selection of boyband songs. Two teams will engage in a dance battle. Team America…”

He pointed to his right, where Leo and Guang Hong were standing.

“… versus Team Europe.” Seung-gil pointed to his left and Phichit and Yuuri.

“As you can see, the nationality of the team members has nothing to do with the team name. Again, you are welcome to ask Leo why this doesn’t make any sense at all. Each team consists of three members, so please pick another person, both of you. As soon as Otabek starts the music, you will dance. An independent jury under my leadership will choose the person with the weakest performance in each song and they will be out. Last man standing wins.”

“This is crap!” Yura announced. “I’m outta here.”

“You stay here, Tiger.” Phichit held on to him by the hem of his white button down shirt that was hanging out over his pants at the back. “You’re our third man.”

“Huh???!!!” Yura snarled at him.

Phichit turned to Leo and Seung-gil. “Team Europe is complete.”

Leo and Guang Hong stuck their heads together for a moment to debate over who to ask into their team, until Leo announced he had an idea and started to scan the room until he had singled out the person he was looking for.

“JJ!” Leo yelled down to the bottom of the stairs on their right. “Come up here, we’re one man down!”

There was a small commotion at the bottom of the stairs, but then JJ took off his tie and jacket and handed it to Isabella, who gave him a peck on the cheek before she shoved him in the direction of the stairs leading to the dance floor. He laughed when there was cheering and whistling as he joined Leo and Guang Hong.

There was a bit of banter as suit jackets were taken off and thrown on the ground like a statement, JJ waved confidently at Isabella, Leo and Phichit thew half hearted insults at each other across the dance floor which were totally pointless because they were laughing so much, Yuuri took off his glasses and loosened his tie, Guang Hong already danced impatiently on the spot like a boxer rearing to go, and Yura growled at everyone just to make his point very clear.

Otabek started the music.

Leo was out first, and Seung-gil’s face clearly expressed that Leo had only the champagne to blame as he stepped back to the edge of the dance floor after having tapped Leo on the shoulder and sending him off.

Sara nudged Isabella in the side, pointing at JJ.

“What the FUUUCK!” She yelled over the music. “He’s got _moves_!”

Isabella was laughing too as she nodded, holding JJ’s suit jacket to her chest, but there was an excited and proud blush on her cheeks.

Phichit was next to go, after it had been obvious how much Seung-gil and his jury colleagues were debating back and forth whether to send him or Guang Hong off. They hugged, laughing, then Phichit hurried to the side and Guang Hong turned a little victory round around JJ.

Yuuri was disqualified during the next song because he paused dancing in the middle of ‘What Makes You Beautiful’ for too long to look at Victor during the ‘ _Baby you light up my world like nobody else, the way that you flip your hair gets me overwhelmed_ ’ part. He looked absolutely pissed off with Seung-gil, himself, and the world in general as he stomped off to join Phichit on the side and put his glasses back on.

Yura glared at him, Phichit face-palmed, and Guang Hong and JJ exchanged a triumphant high five.

Down on the lower level, Victor looked into his glass of champagne as if that could make him forget what had just happened. Or as if that could stop the excited hopefulness in his heart that had just flared up.

When Guang Hong was the next to go, JJ threw Yura a bright smile of challenge. Yura just snarled at him.

Two cheering groups had formed on the sides of the dance floor, each one rooting loudly for their favourite. Phichit especially was hard to restrain, singing and dancing along to the extremely catchy song while throwing in passionate yells of “Goooooooo, Tiger!!!!!!!”

Yura won the dance battle, yanking off his tie with one hand while he punched the other one in the air in a victory pose, screaming out his triumph. Standing by the bottom of the stairs with Yakov and Lilia, Victor laughed when he saw JJ shaking Yura’s hand in congratulation and Yura scowling at him. It looked like he was barking at JJ. Mila joined him and Yakov and Lilia then, already carrying the bottle of champagne that was the prize for the winner of the dance battle.

Yakov took it away before Yura could even properly get his hands on it, claiming he was too young.

“Oi, Yakov!!!” Yura yelled, jaw dropping, longing eyes following the bottle from his grasp to Yakov’s chest.

Victor winked at Yura and pulled Yakov into a conversation in the course of which he offered to take the bottle of champagne off of him so he wouldn’t have to carry it the whole time. He sneaked it to Mila next chance he got and motioned for her to run. Only moments later Mila was running up to the dance floor with Yura on the other side of the room. Yura raised his bottle of champagne above his head like a trophy. Yakov’s rant about underaged drinking was luckily drowned out by the music. Lilia’s hand came down on Yakov’s arm, and Victor knew this was her wordless request of Yakov to leave things alone and make an exception for one evening. The three of them stood together for a moment watching Yura, who was sharing champagne up on the dance floor, the bottle passing around the group around him. Smiling brightly, dancing with his shirt hanging out and his arms in the air, singing along to ‘Blank Space’ with Mila and other young colleagues, he looked the happiest they had ever seen him. Victor stopped one of their social media guys who happened to pass by as he was weaving through the crowds taking pictures, and asked him to take some of Yura up on the dance floor. His grandfather would love to see him this happy.

Yuuri was still up on the dance floor. The video playing with he song showed a nerdy guy in an awfully ugly cardigan and glasses, and Victor felt catapulted back to that very first day when Yuuri’s nightmare outfit had led to his stupid bet with Chris. Three girls were singing and dancing in a lift in the video, and as the lift door opened it was of course the blonde who stepped out to hit in on the nerd. The lyrics were mocking him.

_I've been waiting patiently for him to come and get it… I’m busy showing him what he's been missing… I'm kind of showing off for his full attention… My sexy ass has got him in the new dimension…_

It got worse. The next song was a Turkish dance pop number that had the dance floor swarming with people. The moves were nothing short of Bollywood level and Yuuri and Guang Hong seemed to get a kick out of showing off their skills and doing the kissing motions in the air facing each other at the end of every chorus.

“Peach! Come _on_! That’s my song! I requested this!”

Victor turned his head when he heard Leo’s voice somewhere nearby. Leo and Phichit hurried past him and up the stairs, and Yuuri and Guang Hong welcomed them with smiles and cheers. Victor couldn’t take his eyes off of Yuuri. Yuuri knew every single word of the half English, half Spanish song, and he seemed absolutely confident, safe with his friends who Victor knew would stand in his way the moment he got too close to Yuuri. The four of them were a tightly knit unit. Victor knew it would be pointless to try. He tried hard not to be too obvious watching Yuuri dance but it was nearly impossible with the dance floor elevated like a goddamn stage. Now all that was missing to make his misery complete was ‘Desert Rose’.

Otabek clearly had a direct line to Victor’s mind because as the current song ended nothing else but ‘Desert Rose’ began. A brief bitter laugh got stuck in Victor’s throat.

He inhaled sharply through his mouth and nose when the first haunting _‘I dream of rain’_ floated from the speakers and Yuuri closed his eyes and let his head fall back very slowly into the music, exposing his neckline, and Victor’s mouth went dry with the feral need to go up there and bury his mouth right in the curve of Yuuri’s neck like he was coming home.

A glass of champagne appeared in front of him. “You looked… thirsty.” He found Sara beside him. Victor gave a hollow laugh at the double entendre.

“How are you, darling?” he asked, winding one arm around waist her when she rested her head against his shoulder. They retreated to one of the seating areas behind a pillar under the dance floor, where they were a little way away from the speakers and it was easier to talk.

“Happy.” He heard the smile in her voice and followed her eyes, searching for Mila in the crowd. He spotted her by the punch bowl. She looked stunning in a short purple dress that had the same colour as Sara’s eyes, one arm slung through Yakov’s who still looked every inch like he would have rather watched television in his pyjamas and slippers back home. Victor knew that making an appearance at the office Christmas party was a duty Yakov would have gladly passed on to someone else. But there was no way he could not have shown himself this year. Not after the nerve-wrecking crisis they had just weathered.

“Your brother looks happy, too.” Victor gave a vague nod in the direction of a group of young men talking animatedly by the chocolate fountain at the end of the canapé buffet. Michele, as usual, was a sight to behold, all chiselled Italian angles in his made-to-measure navy Dolce & Gabbana suit. His face was more relaxed than Victor had ever seen him as he listened attentively to something Seung-gil was saying, champagne glass in one hand while the other was resting on the small of the back of the handsome shaggy-haired dark blonde man beside him. Emil had a dreamy smile on his face whenever he looked at Michele. And Victor appreciated a man who could rock a black tux and bow tie like this. Like Mila with her purple dress, Emil had opted for a pocket square the colour of the Crispino twins’ eyes.

“Fancy getting mugged in a foreign country and being rescued by a local who could turn out to be the love of your life,” Victor mused.

Sara hummed into her glass.

“Did Mickey run a back-up check on him before he allowed himself to date him?”

“Nah.” Sara took a lazy sip from her glass. “ _I_ did.”

Victor almost snorted out champagne from laughter.

“He founded some travel app that took off like sliced bread in Eastern Europe. We’re thinking about buying into it and launching it over here. Like turning it upside down, showing off travel destinations in Eastern Europe. I hear the beaches in Croatia are wonderful.”

Victor chuckled. “We could do a Mickey Special.”

“A romantic get-away in Prague.”

“‘Get your heart and your wallet stolen on the scenic banks of the Vltava.’”

They laughed. Eventually Sara sighed, and it sounded dreamy. “I still can’t believe that Mickey found someone who looks at him like this. I’m so happy for that idiot! I was worried for the longest time that he was missing out on something in his life, that he was too intense, too focussed on me, but perhaps he was just… subconsciously waiting for Emil to come along.”

The champagne made her talkative. Victor smiled, enjoying the spirit in her voice. 

“God, I love Emil. He couldn’t suit Mickey better if I had handpicked him myself. I can’t wait to bring him over for a Czech night before they go back to Milan, he’s such a good cook. We’ll all have to go on the treadmill the next day because that food is so rich but it’ll be worth it. Mickey’s had to double up his fitness regime because Emil feeds him so well.”

She fell silent for a long moment. Victor looked straight ahead and pressed his lips so tightly together that it hurt. Waiting.

“Oh my god, that came out so! Wrong!” Sara finally cried out, immediately clamping one hand over her mouth as she doubled over laughing. Victor, too, positively wheezed with the laughter he’d been holding in since the full impact of the possible misinterpretation of Sara’s words had sunk in.

“I was about to ask if that isn’t contradictory, because wouldn’t Mickey’s fitness regime already be doubled up when he has that hot stuff between the sheets now?” Victor gasped, collapsing against Sara as he shook with laughter.

“And Emil feeds him!!!” Sara squeaked. “ _Feeds_ him alright!”

“Feeds him _what_ though, is the question!”

“Oh my GOD, Victor!!!!”

“We need to get our minds out of the gutter and wash out our mouths with soap!”

“I shouldn’t even be _thinking_ in that direction about my own brother!”

They laughed until they cried and their sides ached, holding each other up with tears streaming down their faces.

“That was good.” Sara sighed when she straightened up eventually, wiping tears of laughter from her eyes and placing her empty champagne glass on the nearest surface.

Victor nodded, also wiping his eyes. “I’m sorry, this is mean, but laughing at Mickey’s expense is always so rewarding.”

“No.” Sara moved around so that she came to stand directly in front of him. Face sober now, she cupped his face with both hands. “I meant seeing you laugh. _Hearing_ you laugh.”

Victor swallowed hard, all merriment slowly seeping from his expression

“That bet was the stupidest thing you and Chris got up to yet, and I’ve known you guys all my life.”

“I know.” Victor downed the rest of his champagne in one go.

“It was stupider than the gay bar in Moscow.”

“I know.”

“And Yuuri is the best thing to ever happen to you.”

“I know.” He placed his empty glass on a nearby table, gave Sara’s arm and affectionate rub and placed a chaste kiss on her forehead, smiling a sad smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

“Now.” She looked at him with determination. “Do you still know the words to ‘Felicità’?”

Yuuri was watching Victor dance with Sara. Nursing a glass of water in his hands, he leaned against the bar with his back, looking over at the dance floor. They looked absolutely stunning together, Sara with her tanned skin and long black hair, Victor all marble skin and short silver hair, their moves well practised since they were children dancing in the backroom of a pizzeria. Both of them were singing the Italian words along with ease. But Victor’s smiles didn’t reach his eyes.

Yuuri asked the bar keeper for a glass of champagne and downed it quickly. After this song, he thought. The moment Victor stepped down from that dance floor, he would talk to him. It was a sweet, melancholy pop song they were dancing to, and somehow the ending made Yuuri feel sad as well as hopeful.

_In the midnight hour I will wait for you, I will wait for you…_

The song ended and he saw Sara and Victor hug on the dance floor. Yuuri’s heart started beating faster in his chest. Sara stayed and started dancing with someone else, but Victor. Victor turned and descended the stairs. He stopped at the bottom of the stairs and looked up, almost as if he could feel Yuuri watching him. Time stood still for a moment. Victor started walked towards him. And Yuuri. Yuuri panicked, slid off the bar stool and ran.

Victor rolled his eyes. He would laugh about this later, he thought. When he had told Yuuri it was enough running and chasing and secretly (or not so secretly) watching each other. He set off after Yuuri.

And was stopped by Chris.

A Chris who shouldn’t be here anymore in the state he was in. The nasty kind of drunk. The kind of drunk you brought about yourself when you wanted to forget and realised way too late that your sorrow could swim and refused to be drowned. Victor closed his eyes and counted to ten. Then he grabbed Chris by the arm and pulled him away from where he could possibly cause more damage by talking to people.

Victor yanked open the door to the men’s room and dragged Chris inside.

“Victor…” Chris said in a sing-sang voice. “I’m not keeping you from something, am I?”

Victor glared at him. “Shut up and get your head under the cold tap to sober up a little so that you can go home.” 

“Are you still angry about our bet?” Chris asked, a smirk on his face now. “That was ages ago.”

“Chris.” Victor took a deep breath, but damn, was it hard not to lose his temper. “I love you like a brother, and I’ll always help you hide a body, but you’re a spoilt brat at the best of times and an obnoxious arsehole when you’re drunk.”

“At least you got a good shag or two out of it. Was it a good shag? He looks like he’s a good shag.”

“Chris, for fuck’s sake! That was never what I was after and you know it.”

“Oh I know, _mon cher_. Victor Nikiforov always wants the whole package. The big emotions. Kisses in the moonlight. Dancing under the stars. The romance.”

He spat out the words like something disgusting.

“You want to settle down with your spouse, the house, and the puppies. Victor Nikiforov does not fuck - he makes love.”

“And what’s wrong with that?”

“It’s sad, that’s what’s wrong with that. It’s an illusion.”

Victor stared at his friend incredulously. Every tiny hint of sentiment was so well-known he wanted to shake him to pieces and put only the good parts of him back together. He knew the Book of Christophe Giacometti like the back of his hand.

“You’re jealous,” Victor told him.

Something flared up in Chris’ green eyes, something that had never borne well for anyone, least of all for Chris himself. A dry laugh worked its way up Victor’s throat as he moved in on Chris until he had his best friend with his back against the wall.

“That’s it, isn’t it? That’s why you mentioned the bet in front Yuuri, even when it didn’t matter anymore.” Victor came to stand in front of him, hands on his hips, suit jacket pushed open in the movement.

Chris laughed. “I was doing you a favour. I thought you’d told him. I know you, Victor. You’ve never been good at carrying secrets around with you in relationships. I just wanted to help out a friend.”

“The hell you did. I know you too, Chris. You just cannot bear it that someone else is happy when you’re miserable. It was one phone call today, Chris. You’ve had many like them. What makes today so different that it had you turning into this? You’re completely out of your mind, and I’m getting sick of it.”

“Sébastien dumped me.” Chris closed his eyes to his own defeat.

“Chris...” Victor let out a long, painful breath. “He never deserved you.”

Green eyes opened again, full of anguished evil. Victor ached for his friend. He knew that this was when Chris was at his very worst, a wild animal wounded but not defeated, and he would lash out like one just so, regardless of who got in his way.

“My secretary is cute...” Chris mused.

Victor stepped away from him, feeling anger rise like bile in his throat. Green was the colour of envy in some cultures, and right now the land of Giacometti was one of them as Chris kept his eyes on Victor like two dark-lashed abandonment issues.

His eyes said ‘ _I need my best friend!’_ yet his mouth turned the words into weapons.

“I’m starting to regret a little that I didn’t try harder. I could have fucked him on the bonnet of my Jaguar before giving it to you.”

Victor’s hands curled into fists at his sides. He hadn’t gotten into a physical fight with Chris for over twenty years, but right here and now he sure was oh so close.

_Chris was hurting. Chris wanted his attention because he couldn’t stand being alone with himself like this. Chris would sober up and feel mortified with remorse. Chris wanted to hurt himself, not Victor. Chris would ask him shamefacedly for forgiveness tomorrow._

Every thought was a deep breath Victor took to calm himself. Steeling himself for the final blow.

“I’m sorry, Victor.” Chris’ expression was anything but. “Looks like you’re coming out of this empty-handed. Neither my Jaguar, nor my secretary is yours.”

“Yuuri!” Victor hissed, moving in close until his nose was almost touching Chris’, his knuckles white where he gripped his best friend tight around the front of his shirt. “His _name_ is Yuuri! And he is the most wonderful person you won’t ever get your hands on!”

He reached for the door with one hand and pushed Chris towards it.

“Go home, Chris. Get someone to take you out of here before you ruin someone else’s night or before I punch your fucking lights out. Lick your wounds in private and cry yourself to sleep like a normal person. And tomorrow you can call me and apologise for being an arsehole and a shitty friend, like you do, and perhaps I’ll let you buy me a gin & tonic or twelve and forgive you, like _I_ do.”

Victor shoved Chris out of the bathroom. The door fell shut, and then there was silence.

The door to the furthest bathroom stall opened after the silence had been allowed to settle for a few minutes. Yuuri stepped out, shaken. He had wanted a few minutes to himself, to try and get himself under control again because he had seen and felt Victor’s eyes on him all the while he was dancing. And when Victor came down from the dance floor and their eyes met he had panicked and fled. He’d just wanted to have a little cry to get the yearning out of his system and go back to the party. And maybe, after another glass of champagne or two, muster up the courage again to speak to Victor. By the time Victor had dragged a very drunk Chris into the bathroom from the sound of it, Yuuri had been stuck in the cabin unable to come out as long as they were there.

Yuuri stood very still, his chest heaving with agitated breaths. Having been forced to listen in on Victor and Chris’ conversation had shook him up. The things Chris had said!

_Victor Nikiforov does not fuck - he makes love._

And Victor’s answer. _And what’s wrong with that?_

That was not what denial sounded like.

Yuuri’s heart was pounding so hard and fast he thought it would burst his chest. His throat felt tight with emotions he couldn’t fight down. Didn’t want to fight down. Not anymore. Not again.

Victor took his coat from the bored hipster who was minding the cloakroom for the night with a nod and a “Thank you”. He was done here. He just wanted to go home. As he wound his scarf around his neck and shrugged his winter coat on he hoped someone else was going to take care of Chris now because he honestly couldn’t be bothered anymore. And Yuuri… Yuuri seemed fine without him. Happier than he had seen him in a long time. It was probably just as well that Chris had stopped him. The fact that Yuuri had bolted as soon as Victor took one step towards him told him everything he needed to know.

Victor muttered a quiet goodnight to the hipster and crossed the foyer in quick strides.

He had had plans for tonight. Hopes. Now he had nothing.

He was almost by the door when he heard the voice calling out behind him and froze in his tracks.

“Victor!”

Yuuri.

He was coming down the carpeted stairs from the club area, his tie loose around his neck now, hair unkempt, his black suit looking worse for wear after a night of dancing and chickening out of approaching Victor.

“Can we talk?” Brown eyes were sparkling hopefully behind his glasses.

“Here?” Victor looked around the small foyer of the club. The music from inside was subdued out here but still loud enough to hear the words of every song if you paid attention. The bored young hipster in the cloakroom was back to scrolling through his phone. The security guard who was watching the door had just headed back outside after getting some coffee from the machine in the corner. There was a niche in the opposite wall, half hidden from sight by square pillars placed around the foyer when this house was built to support the ceiling, with a seating bench nestling against the wall, the red upholstery picking up the rich colour of the carpets.

Victor’s gaze came round to Yuuri again. “Now?”

“D’you want to wait?” Yuuri asked. He looked slightly crestfallen.

Victor braved a smile and shook his head. “Not one minute longer.”

They sat down on the bench in the niche in the wall, side by side without touching. Victor took off his coat and scarf and placed them carefully beside him on the bench. For a moment they sat without speaking, at a loss for words. Yuuri looked up and found Victor watching him. If he didn’t speak now, he never would.

“So tell me about this bet.”

Victor sighed. “It was… stupid.”

“Yeah, we’ve established that. Details, Victor. What exactly did you bet? What were the stakes?”

Victor took a deep breath. “I bet Chris that I’d get him to sleep with you by the end of the year. If I managed that and he did… sleep with you, that is… he would give me his Jaguar.”

Yuuri blinked. Like he was waiting for there to be any more. “That’s it?” He asked when he realised that Victor wasn’t going to keep talking. “Was there anything else?”

“Is that not enough?”

“Like… what was at stake for you? Was there a part that you would sleep with me first?”

“No, that was never part of it!” Victor sighed and ran one hand through his hair. “Chris was being a cocky ass, that day you served him the wrong coffee. He made some derogatory remarks about the way you dressed and how all his secretaries had the hots for him but he was way out of their league, and then I looked into your eyes and thought, if you played your cards right you would prove his stupid words wrong. So I bet him. I thought if he could get to know you, get to see you, properly, he would eat his words. It was stupid.”

“Stupid to befriend me to make me pretty and pimp me out to your best friend? I should think so.”

“I didn’t… that’s a disgusting way of putting it, and it’s not true! It was about Chris being a pain in the ass, mostly. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done so at your expense. And then I got to know you and I… In the beginning I thought for a while that I could make Chris see what a wonderful person you are, how good it would do him to have someone like you in his life.”

Victor swallowed hard. He looked firmly at Yuuri when he continued.

“But then I enjoyed being around you so much that it didn’t matter to me anymore. I forgot about the bet and eventually, when I remembered, I told Chris I wanted to back out. More than anything, I didn’t want him sleeping with you. And I wanted… to be with you. And with your dog, and your friends, but mostly you. I just wanted to be with _you_.”

“So… if you sleeping with me was never part of the bet… and in the worst case you lost…” Yuuri crinkled his brow, the wheels turning as he was trying to make sense of it all. “That means Chris would _not_ sleep with me and you would _not_ have a car that you didn’t have anyway?”

Victor nodded.

“That is a shitty bet!”

Victor could stop himself. He laughed. A sad, bitter little laugh.

“That's not really a bet at all. It’s just… stupid!” Yuuri kept shaking his head.

“Okay, Yuuri.”

“You didn’t really put anything at stake!”

“And I still lost the world,” Victor said softly.

Yuuri blushed.

A group of people came in from the streets and they looked up, eyes meeting across the foyer. Victor recognised them; he had seen them go out for a smoke as he was getting his coat.

They were still by the cloakroom when the hushed words reached them where they were sitting.

“They’re talking. _They! Are! Talking!_ ” 

Victor and Yuuri exchanged a glance. A smile.

“This will be all over the company in about…” Victor thought. “Three minutes.”

“Do you mind?” Yuuri asked.

Victor shook his head. “Do _you_ mind, Yuuri?”

“No.”

For a moment they sat quietly side by side, hands resting on thighs. Yuuri looked across the small distance between them, thinking how close they were and yet not touching. His hand positively hurt with the need to reach over and take Victor’s.

“So now you know,” Victor said, looking down at their feet on the carpet. “It was a truly stupid bet, but it was over. Before… that weekend.”

“You couldn’t have just told me that?” Yuuri asked quietly.

Victor raised his head. “I tried. Would you have listened?”

Feeling called out, Yuuri looked to the ground and muttered, “Fair enough.”

“I wanted to tell you that night. The day Chris blabbed and everything went shit-shaped. When we…”

He stopped but Yuuri knew immediately what he was thinking about. The love they had made that morning. 

Victor took a deep, trembling breath and looked at his hands in his lap. “I was going to tell you that I started getting to know you better for all the wrong reasons and then fell in love with you so deeply that I couldn’t think straight anymore. I had this beautiful date planned out for you, hoping that it might help… you not hating so much on me when I told you.”

“I never hated on you, I was just… hurt.”

“I know. I’m sorry.” Victor’s hand hovered in the small space between them for a moment like dying to reach for Yuuri, then he lowered it into his lap again. “I’m so sorry.”

“You could… ask me again?” Yuuri side-eyed him, hopeful. “To make up for things? Ask me again on that date, I mean?”

Victor shook his head, looking sad. “Not until springtime.”

“You can’t ask me out until springtime??”

“Yuuuuri!” Victor laughed. “Just that particular date. We’d catch pneumonia if we did that in winter.”

“Oh.”

Another group of their colleagues came into the foyer, this one from the club to go home. The whispers and the heads turned in Yuuri and Victor’s direction were obvious, as were the excited smiles. Such an effort was made not to stare at them too openly as they crossed the foyer towards the exit that Victor called out a cheerful “Goodnight, guys!” to them. Replies were flustered, or amused, and they all quickly filed out as soon as they were handed their coats.

Yuuri and Victor exchanged a look, smiled and shook their heads very lightly.

“I wish I’d told you sooner.”

Yuuri kept looking at Victor. He was so close, his scent alone was driving him crazy. And he looked so lost, it was driving him even crazier.

“We should have talked before we slept with each other because after that I just… I didn’t ever want to go back from that. But I was afraid. I was so scared that if you knew, you would kick me out and never talk to me again, and I was so happy, being there with you, spending the whole weekend with you. It felt like…”

“Home,” Yuuri finished for him.

Victor looked surprised.

“I was there, Victor. Spending a whole day and night together, just us and the dogs, doing small everyday things like cooking and washing dishes, watching TV… it felt like home. Driving home together from work, going through your kitchen cupboards looking where everything is to cook you dinner while you were in the shower, talking to Makka while I moved around your apartment…”

The faintest ghost of a smile passed between them.

Yuuri decided it was enough. He breached that last speck of distance and placed one hand on Victor’s thigh, moved in close. Victor leaned in to meet him like he had been waiting for this. He placed one hand on Yuuri’s, fingers lacing together. Their foreheads touched.

“I hated losing that, more than anything else,” Victor said quietly.

“It was the worst,” Yuuri agreed. “I missed that. I missed you.”

They were so close it was impossible to see his face like this but Yuuri closed his eyes and just breathed, noses touching as he moved a little closer, simply wanting to be near Victor again.

“Yuuuuri…”

Yuuri smiled. That low purr Victor’s voice could be when he said his name like this. He sneaked one arm into the space behind them, tried to bring it round the small of Victor’s back behind them on the bench.

“Do you remember the movie we watched the first time I came to Bollywood night? How we talked about whether we would renounce our true love for our best friend’s happiness? For a little while, I think I actually, very stupidly, tried to make that happen. Forgive me?”

“Victor.” Yuuri pulled back a little so that he was able to see him. So that Victor was able to see the very solemn expression on his face. “Chris never stood the ghost of a chance.”

The hug was like a revelation. Their arms suddenly just shot up and wound around the other like they had no other purpose in life. After what felt like clinging to him forever, his face buried against Victor’s chest, Yuuri laughed quietly.

"What?" Victor leaned back so as to see his face.

Yuuri looked up at him. "I cannot believe that the man I love would come up with such a stupid bet.“

Victor stilled. “The man you love?”

“Clearly you don’t know the first thing about betting.”

“Yuuuuri!”

“What?”

“The man you love?”

Yuuri blushed and went very still. For a long moment he just looked at him, then he smiled. Alittle overwhelmed. A lot happy.

“Of course I do. I probably I didn’t do a very good job of bringing it across over the past couple of weeks because I was so hurt and so angry, but when I tried to sneak in all those little things like feeding you and letting you sleep and finishing your bar charts and…”

“Yuuri. Yuuri! Stop!” Victor held his shoulders and leaned in, lowering his head a little trying to see Yuuri’s face because Yuuri looked so flustered and lost in thoughts. “I noticed. Perhaps not so consciously all the time, but latest when that thing with Makka happened, I… I was hoping it meant that, but at the same time I didn’t dare…”

“We are quite the pair.” Yuuri looked up, smile around his lips.

“A pair of idiots, I dare say.”

“Some more than others.”

“I love you, too.” Victor’s words made them both freeze momentarily.

“I know,” Yuuri said after a pause, but his eyes looked strangely moist.

“You…” Victor gaped. "But I never told you, Yuuri.”

“I didn’t need to hear the words, Victor! I knew. I just tried to deny it because I was so angry but deep down inside, I knew. After that night in the club, I… I could see it in your eyes, in the way you looked at me, the way you touched me! And the triplets said so.”

“That was supposed to be our secret!” Victor looked scandalised.

“Six-year-olds may not be the best people to keep your secrets, Victor.” Yuuri smiled. “And then the video.”

Victor froze. “You know about the triplets’ video?”

“No, Phichit’s video. Phichit made a video in the club, when we danced to ‘Euphoria’. Wait. What triplets’ video??”

Victor scratched the back of his head in slight embarrassment.

“There’s another video?” Yuuri’s eyes were huge behind his glasses. “Of... _us_?”

“Yuuri, what did you think got me through the past couple of weeks?”

They looked at each other, then whipped out their phones almost in synch, unlocking screens and scrolling through folders until they found the videos and exchanged their phones. The music was quiet, a strange mash of the two songs that meant so much to the both of them.

“You’re singing along!” Yuuri’s head shot up, one eyebrow raised like an accusation.

“I was caught in the moment!” Victor didn’t look up from Yuuri’s phone.

“Our first dance was to the most embarrassing song in the world ever and you’re singing along! You’re loving this!”

Now Victor raised his eyes. “It’s romantic. Giving you a star that bears your name… no?”

“Sap.” Yuuri looked at him from under his lashes. A small smile pursed his lips as he kept on watching the video. “Look at you, five time kiddie disco champion Victor Nikiforov, sweeping me off my feet. I think that was the day I truly fell in love with you. Before, it was just… thirst.”

“Yuuuuuuri...”Victor blushed.

“Can I watch it again?” Yuuri asked. He pointed at his own phone in Victor’s hand. “You can watch that again.”

Victor sighed. “I can’t, Yuuri. It does things to me… but you go ahead.”

Victor leaned back against the wall, Yuuri’s phone lowered into his lap, as he watched Yuuri watching the videoclip on his phone. Yuuri’s cheeks were flush with pink as he concentrated, his eyes almost dreamy, his mouth opened just the tiniest, deliciously excited bit. And Victor’s heart was all over the place.

“What’s ‘Yuuri’s scene’?”

He sat up straight. “Yuuri! Are you sneaking around my video folder?”

But Yuuri had already called up the video and pressed ‚Play’. His eyes widened when his favourite Bollywood movie scene started playing and Rahul and Anjali started dancing in the rain.

“You remember that.” He looked at Victor, dumbfounded.

“Of course I remember that. I remember everything. Your face when we watched that scene over and over again. The other movie, the one with Deepika…”

“You know her name.”

“Of course I do, I- why are you looking at me like this?”

“You know the name of my favourite Bollywood actress.”

“I know much more than her name, Yuuri. I watched some more of her movies in the meantime and I didn’t enjoy a single one because you and the guys were not right next to me laughing and flailing. I know she just got married because I skulked around really questionable Indian websites searching for news and pictures thinking that you and Phichit were probably doing the very same and it made me feel... connected to you, somehow.”

Yuuri stared at him, open-mouthed.

“I remember how you watched that one very short Deepika scene with so much longing, when they move in to dance together… like you wanted nothing more in the world than you have someone look at you on the dance floor. And then we danced together in the club and looked at each other just like that, and we were both so aware of it and it was amazing. That conversation we had in Milan. I think I already knew then that I want you for myself. I want you to go on a thousand cliché dates with me, and I want to romance you like to deserve it.”

Yuuri was thunderstruck. Suddenly the past couple of weeks seemed such a waste. All the things they could have had! How they could cheered each other up. The support they could have given each other. Regret washed over Yuuri. He wanted to mourn every single second they had lost.

“Victor.”

“Yes, my darling?”

Yuuri’s features softened. “I missed being called that.”

“What, darling? I call many people darling.”

“But you call only me ‘my darling’.”

“You noticed.” Victor seemed shy.

“I noticed that a long time ago.”

They moved in close again, hands finding the other’s and grasping tight, faces nearly touching, breathing the same air.

“God, Yuuri, I really, really want to kiss you but if I start that here I will never stop and this is not exactly the place where I—”

“Vitya.”

Yuuri saw the surprise at his unexpected use of the endearment. Saw the tension unfurl behind Victor’s eyes and burst into joy and happiness. Yuuri had stored the word away like a precious stone, had heard Mila and Yakov call Victor that with so much ease. He had tested the sound and feel of it on his lips sometimes when he was alone, in very rare moments, feeling like he was taking a gem from his very own treasure chest and polishing it, so it would be ready one day to come out and shine.

“Vitya,” he said again, smiling, loving how it felt to call Victor that. Loving how Victor loved him calling him that.

“Yes, my darling?”

“Take me home.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“Hello.”

Phichit swung around. And scrunched up his nose with disdain.

“I couldn’t help but notice that you looked like you were waiting for someone, so I thought...” The words were slurred, sounding of as much booze as the whole person reeked of. “Perhaps you’re waiting for me?”

“Come again?” Phichit’s eyebrows climbed so high they blended into his hair.

“Awww now, don’t play coy.” A smile flared up that could have been devastating if it hadn’t looked so unhappy. “I’ve had a really bad day... a _really_ , really bad day. And you look like you’re dynamite in bed. I’m not too bad myself, or so I’ve been told. What do you say? Let’s get out of here and have some fun?”

Phichit slid off the bar chair and took his phone and his camera.

“Not even if you were the last man left on earth!” he said icily and walked away.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

They sat close together in the back of a taxi, holding hands, fingers brushing more or less accidentally over arms or thighs. This wasn’t the place to kiss either, and the anticipation was palpable in every caress, every glance, every whisper, every smile. It was warm in the dimly lit taxi, and a song was playing on the radio. Yuuri listened half-heartedly for lack of anything better to do. It wasn’t until the chorus came up a second time that it struck him how much he could relate to this, and his fingers curled instinctively closer around Victor’s where their hands rested on his thigh.

The more he listened, the more his mouth pursed into a smile. Beside him, Victor had gone still, too.

_Despite all my mistakes I’m your no. 1_

_And I remain_

_The hero in your movie_

_I’m your focus when you can’t see clearly_

_Your alphabet when you’re at a loss for words_

_The star in your script, happy ending after every scene_

_The hero in your movie_

_Your shoulder to lean on to ease your worries_

_The one who puts your chaos in order_

_One half of your life, the light on your path_

_The hero in your movie_

Yuuri sat up straight and turned towards Victor so that he was able to face him in the backseat.

“This reminds me so much of two people I know.” Yuuri smiled and brushed Victor’s fringe out of his eye.

“Me too, Yuuri, I wonder if they’re the same ones?” Victor smiled back.

They leaned back against each other, and a phone came out to catch the song title with an app, because they both knew they would want a song with lyrics so perfect for them that it gave them so many feels.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Sara found Phichit by the other end of the bar, where he was enjoying another Virgin Sunrise, scrolling through pictures on his camera that he might be able to use for their intranet. He looked up when Sara spoke.

“Have you seen Victor?”

“He left.”

“No!”

“With Yuuri.”

“YES!” She punched one fist in the air.

Phichit grinned.

She sobered up quickly. “We have a huge problem. Chris.”

Phichit’s eyebrows all but hit his hairline. He turned his back on Sara demonstratively and picked up his drink.

“His father said some really awful things to him today and his toy boy in Paris dumped him.”

“Serves him right.”

“He took off with his credit card.”

“That can be cancelled.”

“He called him some pretty nasty things.”

“Probably deserved it.”

“We’ll be searching the internet for pictures of that pole dance on Monday. Also, that waste of space apparently has tons of pictures in... intimate situations.”

“As if anyone wants to see this. Plus, can we please reassess who the waste of space really is?”

“Phichit!!!”

“Sara! You know what he did! And then earlier he was really, really shitty to Victor, saying crap about Yuuri to Victor’s face. And _then_ he had the guts to hit on me! He’s lucky I didn’t push him off that bar stool, I was _this_ close! I have no compassion whatsoever. I want to rip his fucking head off!”

“He’s hurting. He’s drunk and miserable and worn out and in worse shape than I’ve ever seen him. His lover taking off hit him harder than expected. I know he can be an arsehole, but Phichit, I’ve known Chris all my life. He’s really just a very sad, lonely boy with a lot of pressure from his parents on his shoulders. His father just gave him a lecture and not a bit of thanks or appreciation after everything he accomplished after the fire. And he’s just realised tonight, after even Victor nearly blasted him one, that he fucked up too many good things in his life. He’s… broken.”

“Please. Sara. Please, don’t. I don’t care. He’s been a scumbag, and he’s probably had it coming for a long time.”

“I need help getting him out of here.”

“Why are you talking to me then?”

“You can drive. You’re the only one sober here.”

“No.”

“Please!”

“There’s this revolutionary concept called taxi. I hear you pay them for driving you home.”

“Stop being such a bitch! He’s pissed out of his head, no taxi driver will take him. You can take my car.”

“No, Sara, you can’t ask that of me! No! Don’t make the puppy eyes at me!”

“You know Yuuri would.”

“That’s _low_!”

“Yuuri would hiss and spit fire but he would help.”

Phichit just glared at her.

She threw her hands in the air in a very Italian gesture.

“Fine! If you insist on being like this! I wasn’t even going to play this card because the next thing you’ll accuse me of is wanting to have a pity bonus, but in all honesty, Phichit, I was hoping you of all people would be able to brush all harsh feelings aside for the thirty minutes it would take to drive home a miserable bundle of a man. And I want to see _you_ not getting pissed drunk when your own father asks you in all seriousness when you’re going to stop being a faggot. But whatever! I can see I’m wasting my time here!”

Sara was already turning away when Phichit called out, “Wait!”

He downed the rest of his drink and slammed the glass down hard on the bar top.

“Crap!” He slid off the bar stool, glaring at Sara. “You owe me big time for this!”

“Phichit, thank you, thank you, thank you!!!!”

He rolled his eyes for good measure. “Where is he?”

“Can you bring my car round the back? I’ll get Mickey and Emil to help me smuggle him out. He kind of passed out in the back office. We don’t need any more of our staff to see the boss in such a state.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

They started kissing in the lift. By the time they made it to Victor’s apartment, they were already breathless. Coasts, scarves and shoes were carelessly thrown off in the hallway. Suit jackets, ties, pants and shirts scattered on the way from the living room to the bedroom. Socks and underwear kicked off on the bedroom floor. By the time Victor pulled Yuuri down on his bed in the same soft light of a few weeks ago, they were both breathing heavily with swollen lips and raging erections throbbing between them. It had been too long to wait for, too much not to have, too good not to want to have it again as soon as possible. Every touch was feverish and greedy and never enough.

Yuuri rose on one arm and eyed the headboard of Victor’s bed. He looked down at him, his thumb caressing Victor’s cheek where he cupped his face. “If any of those buttons on the side of your fancy headboard starts a playlist of sappy songs for the mood, you might want to put it on now.”

Victor grinned up at him, and without a word or looking away from Yuuri’s face for a moment, reached up with one arm and blindly pressed some of the buttons in question. A moment later the first guitar chords of Bon Jovi’s ‘Bed of Roses’ wound from invisible speakers, though Yuuri strongly guessed they were also integrated in the fancy headboard of Victor’s bed.

“Really now?” Yuuri raised one eyebrow. “ _Really_ , Victor?”

“Yuuri, you asked for this. Don’t complain to me now.” Victor reached for him with both arms.

“Don’t _you_ complain if this kills my boner. You might be even sappier than I thought you were.” Yuuri laughed and leaned into his embrace, covered him with his body and captured his lips in a kiss.

“Says the man who cries over Bollywood movies every Friday night,” Victor murmured against his lips as his mouth came away for one brief moment before their lips locked again.

“Promise you’ll never let me stop you from telling me things again!” Yuuri gasped, drawing breath between two kisses. “Whatever they are.”

“Yuuri.” Victor drew the curve of Yuuri’s lips with his tongue. “Are you committing to listening to any old rubbish I want to tell you, at any time?”

“Any old rubbish, Nikiforov.” Yuuri was panting, dipping his tongue between Victor’s lips. “It’s not like I’ll be expecting anything else.”

They laughed quietly, mouths plunging into deep kisses that completely belied their very words.

“Never again.” Victor caught Yuuri’s bottom lip gently between his teeth. “I promise.”

The change in Victor’s face was like a mask cracking. Like the face he had worn for the world for the longest time was finally allowed to bare all its insecurities, pains, doubts, tears.

“Vitya…” Yuuri murmured, holding his face in both hands and showering it with kisses. “Tell me.”

“I’ve felt…” Victor swallowed hard, gripping one of Yuuri’s hands tight with his own as he looked up at him. “I felt so lonely… sometimes I wasn’t sure I would be able to hold up.”

Yuuri felt tears shoot into his eyes, hearing his deepest worries confirmed.

He felt it in the way Victor’s body became receptive and pliable under him. Like a shell had broken open, all the layers of stress, fear, and worries of the past couple of weeks fell away. The armour of strength and willpower and perseverance that had held Victor upright shattered, leaving a vulnerable, exhausted, fragile man. At the same time Yuuri felt the fear he had felt earlier when he thought Victor had gone before he could speak to him make way for strength, for the fervent wish to take care and shelter, stronger than ever before. He felt the need, the trust, the fear, all the raw honesty that was Victor. He felt the words spinning emotions from the unseen speakers into the night between them.

_I want somebody who cares for me passionately with every thought and with every breath_

Yuuri felt the need in himself, something that reminded him of the art of _kintsugi_ back home, the calm and the patience to fill all those cracks with life and love and laughter and precious feelings and bring those broken pieces back together, make Victor and what they could be together even more beautiful and more unique. 

“What do you need?” Yuuri asked, bringing his face down to Victor’s and kissing those lips, wishing he could kiss away the tears he could see burning in those beloved blue eyes. “Tonight, everything is _yours_.”

Victor’s eyes widened, hearing his own words from all those weeks ago.

“You. I just need _you_ , Yuuri.” Victor’s voice was weighed down with urgency. “I need to feel you… need you inside me.”

Yuuri’s heart detonated with acute emotion. Compassion. Lust. Care. Yearning. Tenderness. Love.

“You have me.” He kissed Victor more, slid his tongue inside his mouth and caressed him inside out.

This was a side of Victor Yuuri knew nobody else ever got to see. Open, needing, falling, and Yuuri wanted to catch him and hold him and cherish him and keep this very Victor all for himself, exclusively.

Victor’s arms fell away from him as Yuuri slowly kissed a way down his chin, his throat, lingering at the pulse beating under the skin of his neck. Rising on his knees, he straddled Victor, looked down and caressed his face with one hand, ran his thumb over Victor’s lower lip and hissed when Victor’s tongue darted out for a teasing swirl around the digit. Yuuri’s cock twitched with the desire to have that tongue tease him somewhere else, but this was not about him now, this was all for Victor.

He brought Victor’s arms up above his head where he held them wrists crossed down on the pillows, and the open posture gave Yuuri ideas he filed away for later, someday, when he might have a tie at hand. Instead, he continued lavishing kisses all over Victor’s body. Dipped his face into the hollow of his collarbone. Sucked marks into his toned chest. Flicked his tongue over perfect pale pink nipples and watched them react to his touch. Sucked first one nipple into his mouth until he heard Victor moan and saw him moving his feet restlessly on the bed. Then he moved on to the other nipple and sucked even harder, and Victor went frantic and breathlessly asked for more.

Yuuri chuckled at his complaint when he moved away from his chest, sure Victor was pouting now. He buried his nose in one armpit, absolutely loving the heady scent of skin and sweat and man, nuzzling the light stubble of regrowing fuzz. He licked into every crevice of skin and made Victor squirm, and then he repeated the action exercising pressure with the flat of his tongue and grinned when he heard Victor moan. Yuuri took his time exploring the tender insides of Victor’s arms, overcome by an acute wish to worship every inch of Victor’s body with everything he had. Victor’s legs fell apart for him as he moved further down and Yuuri settled between his thighs on his knees. He marvelled at the curve of those slender hips, played a silent tune on the keys of his ribcage, caressed the hard, flat stomach so unlike his own. He felt his breath come faster as he followed the inviting V down the apex of his thighs. Victor’s cock had filled under his touch and was lying hard and eager against his abdomen. Yuuri licked his lips before he even noticed he was doing it.

He stretched himself out on the bed and lay on his stomach, settling as comfortably as possible with one of Victor’s legs between his so that he would be able to rub up against him as he took Victor’s cock in his hand and felt him strain against his touch as he closed his fingers around the silky heat. He slowly stroked him to full hardness until he bent his head for a first lick along the underside, feeling every vein, every unevenness under his tongue and memorising them. He pulled back the foreskin and lapped at the head, moaning softly at the taste of salty pre-cum on his tongue and licking up some more while he held Victor’s thigh down with his other hand, trying to stop him from bucking his hips too wildly even though he felt himself get achingly hard when he worked his mouth around Victor’s cock and wished Victor would drive the whole length in and out his waiting mouth. The thought made him moan around the thickness.

“Yuuuuri…” The low, lingering sound from somewhere above his head rolled over him like a physical touch and sent shivers down Yuuri’s spine. “Let me taste you, too.”

Yuuri breathed a quiet moan at the words. Placed a kiss on the head of Victor’s erection and crawled back up on the bed and rose on his knees. Kneeling beside Victor he looked him up and down, loving the flush of arousal tinging Victor’s marble skin. Leaning over to the bedside table he slid the narrow drawer open at a blind guess and a nearly forgotten memory, almost laughing with relief when he found the hoped for assortment of lube and the pack of condoms that had exactly three missing, and Yuuri felt heat and ache rush through him as he thought about how those three condoms had been used exactly the first and last time he had been here before. He grabbed an unopened tube of lube from the drawer.

“Vitya…” He leaned down to murmur straight into his ear. “How would you like to kneel above my face?”

Victor gave a breathless laugh and pulled him into a hungry kiss. “You need to _ask_?”

Minutes later they had switched places and Yuuri hooked his arms around Victor’s thighs until they came round his arse, perfect for parting the cheeks and give his mouth better access. Victor’s feet meet above Yuuri’s head on the bed, and he had one hand planted firmly on the bed next to Yuuri’s thigh while he gripped Yuuri’s cock tight with the other and lowered his head to taste him. Yuuri moaned with pleasure at the sensation. God, he had missed Victor’s mouth on him. For a moment he lost himself in the skilful administrations of Victor tonguing his cock until he was so hard it was almost painful and he wanted nothing more but to fuck into Victor’s mouth.

“Yuuri… _please_ …” Victor sounded desperate, and Yuuri shook his head a little, reminding himself what he had been about to do.

He licked over the puckered rim and loved how it made Victor freeze and curse with surprise, and Yuuri realised that Victor hadn’t reckoned with him using his mouth on him, not after watching him getting the lube. All the better, Yuuri thought, breath catching in his throat as he licked and teased some more, worked his tongue a little way inside and felt the heat of Victor’s skin climb, he was sure, as he was sure the colour on Victor’s face was rising in proportion with the sounds he made, half embarrassment, half pleasure. He licked him some more, face buried in Victor’s arse and thrusting his cock lightly into Victor’s mouth at the same time, and he felt high on the thrill of them 69’ing each other like it was something they needed more than air to breathe.

Yuuri reached for the lube he had placed in reach of his hand and uncapped it, squeezed out enough to coat his fingers and began by teasing with just the tip of one finger. Victor moaned around Yuuri’s cock, breathing heavily through his nose as Yuuri started to finger him open as tenderly as he possibly could. Yuuri’s cock slipped from between Victor’s lips with a faint pop and Yuuri raised his head lightly from the bed to see Victor support his weight with both hands, head dipped low between his shoulders as he breathed heavily and moaned quietly. Soon he was rocking back onto Yuuri’s fingers, his moans increasing as a third finger was added and Yuuri was biting his lips because everything about this was just way too beautiful and too overwhelming, the tight heat gripping his fingers, the sounds Victor made, the way he begged with his body.

“Yuuri!” Yuuri couldn’t help smiling at the urgency in Victor’s voice. “Now. I need you _now_.”

“So impatient…” Yuuri muttered and gave him a playful little slap on one buttock to let him know he’d better move off of him then if he wanted things to move along.

By the time Yuuri had grabbed a condom from the bedside drawer and sheathed himself, Victor was on his back, propped up on his elbows, his head at the lower end of the bed, and his legs spread deliciously wide for Yuuri. His hair was tousled, he was flushed all over, his lips were swollen, his eyes shining with desire, and just the hint of a dreamy smile was playing around his mouth. Yuuri was between his thighs in an instant.

“You’re so beautiful,” Yuuri said, stunned, as he reached down and brushed the tip of his cock over Victor’s hole so that Victor hissed and narrowed his eyes at him in protest.

“Tease!” Victor forced out and suddenly threw his head back with a long groan because Yuuri pushed inside in one smooth, lingering stroke along Victor’s walls. And god, he was tight, and so hot, and so perfect. Yuuri took a deep breath and a moment to sample all the sensations he experienced, rooting himself in Victor with all his senses. Victor had his eyes closed and he looked blissed out between pleasure and pain, but Yuuri knew, much as he had felt that last morning, that this was not a physical pain, it was something so much deeper. He smelt a long night on them, lingering traces of perfume and hair products and one last cigarette, and underneath, deliciously primal, sweat, sex, heated skin. He heard Victor’s breathless panting, the desperate edge in the way he moaned Yuuri’s name, his own heavy breathing and softest grunts, the words from the song currently weaving from the speakers somewhat hauntingly with a rhythm like mating. 

_Hold my hand, don't let me fall…You’ve such amazing grace… Cover me, leave me breathless_

He felt wanted, needed, thrilled by the way Victor dug his heels into the small of his back and pulled him deeper with every thrust, the way his arms clung as tightly to Yuuri’s back as if he wanted them to grow roots there and never pry free. Braced on his elbows and looking down at Victor’s face, Yuuri thought his heart was going to break.

Victor’s eyes fluttered opened as if he felt Yuuri’s gaze.

“I missed you… missed… _feeling_ you… so much…” The words pearled from Victor’s lips, precious and rare.

“I’m here now, all yours,” Yuuri murmured agains his lips. “I love you.”

And he kissed him, kissed the desperate whimper from Victor’s lips and licked deep into his mouth while he took his face in both hands and caught dampness from Victor’s cheeks that made Yuuri’s heart ache so much in his chest with the fervent wish he would be enough. He tasted the faint tanginess of himself on Victor’s tongue, and he tasted Victor, and he knew nothing in his whole life would ever taste as good again as kissing Victor did. Yuuri knew he would never be able to express just how wrecked it made him feel to have this man fall apart underneath him. He drove into him hard and fast like Victor seemed to need him, driven by the breathless sounds Victor made and the nails scraping his back. Every time he bottomed out he could barely slam back in fast enough in time with Victor pulling him deep again with his legs. Already Yuuri knew he would be wearing the bruises of Victor’s urgency with pride. Victor came suddenly, spurting between their bodies without a warning, and Yuuri felt a sob catch at the back of his throat when Victor hid his face in the curve of his neck like an apology.

Resting both arms on his elbows again, Yuuri lowered his mouth down to Victor’s ear and talked to him quietly, holding him with words as well as with his body. It took him a couple more erratic thrusts until he came, too, squeezing his eyes shut as he cried out Victor’s name. He tried not to collapse on top of him like a brute, pried Victor’s legs very gently free from his waist and lowered them onto the bed. Victor released his arms from Yuuri’s back, reluctantly as Yuuri guessed from the whiney sounds of protest Victor made. Yuuri yanked a handful of tissues from the box on the bedside table and wrapped the condom in some while he used others to wipe their stomachs, all done in haste for he didn’t want to be not touching Victor for long. Stretching himself out on the bed again, heads at the lower end, he came to lie face to face with Victor and instinctively reached for him, cradling him in his arms as he rolled himself over onto his back and took Victor with him, legs entangled, Victor’s face seeking shelter in the curve of his neck. He felt Victor trembling, repressed sounds sounding muffled and yet so… suspicious.

Yuuri frowned. “Are you crying?”

“Shut up!” Victor muttered against his skin. “It’s been a tough couple of weeks!”

Yuuri chuckled at the protest but brought Victor’s head closer into the hollow of his throat, letting one of his hands card again and again through his hair in a soothing rhythm, his other arm wound around Victor’s back, drawing patterns into the fast cooling layer of sweat. He couldn’t resist placing a kiss onto the top of Victor’s head.

The words came almost of their own accord, having waited right under Yuuri’s surface for so long now.

“You were amazing these past couple of weeks, Victor. I’m so proud of you.”

And now Victor fell to pieces. He clung to Yuuri like a drowning person as he gave himself permission to be weak and let go, and Yuuri held him tight, gave him every hug he hadn’t given over the past few weeks, every kiss he had not stolen, told him every word he had not allowed himself to say.

“How are you feeling?” Yuuri asked eventually, after they had been lying still for some time, bodies tired, tears shed, hearts calmed. Breathing slowed down to an even rise and fall, listening to the songs from Victor’s sappy list that sometimes made Yuuri want cry from the way certain words rang so true in his own heart and sometimes made him want to kiss this silly man breathless for his atrocious taste in music.

“I feel like a mess. A happy mess.” Victor sighed against Yuuri’s chest, one hand playing gently over the skin there, teasing one of Yuuri’s nipples until he gasped.

“But you’re _my_ mess.” Yuuri chuckled and felt the tremble rocking both their bodies when Victor laughed, too.

“You know…” Yuuri mused, aiming for a casual tone as he ran his hands up and down Victor’s back. “I’ve been wanting to try out our fancy tub from the moment I first saw it. I know I said tonight is all about you but…”

Victor raised his head to look up at Yuuri’s face. “Funny you should mention that…” He smiled. “I just this moment thought perhaps we should have a bath.”

Yuuri snorted quietly with laughter. “Of course you did.” He kissed the final say right off Victor’s lips.

Victor’s en-suite was as extra as the rest of his apartment. The colours tied in with the black and white and grey of the bedroom. The floor was large dark tiles, the walls smaller tiles alternating between off-white and light grey. The shower cabin was one of those fancy square ones Yuuri was sure he’d seen in hotels and he would have bet it had all kinds of crazy types of water features if the huge square shower head at the ceiling and the rows of three on each side were anything to go by. But it was the large tub in the corner that had struck Yuuri’s interest from the moment he had first come in here. _Trust him to have a whirlpool bathtub at home_ , that was what Yuuri’s exact first thought had been.

He stood in the doorway for a moment and watched, shaking his head while a tender smile played around his lips, as Victor moved around the bathroom, running the bath and adding what looked like some really expensive bath salts, putting out towels and lighting candles in glass squares that he placed beside small potted plants and decorative vases on a dark wooden shelf along one of the straight sides of the tub. There was a small ledge built into the tiled wall above the other straight side of it, and some candles went there, too. The inside of the bath was illuminated by soft blue light. The tub curved out front, and a crescent shaped window was set into the wall, allowing Yuuri to see even from the door how the bath filled slowly, the grains of bath salt fizzing in the water and dancing under the surface as the soft scent of cedar began to rise from the bath with faint steam.

Yuuri sighed deeply as he slid into the hot water. This was almost as good as his parent’s onsen, he thought, as he let his head sink back onto the edge of the bath and closed his eyes for a moment. Just for one moment, before he looked up and inspected the choice of buttons to his left until he decided, with a grin of childish glee on his face, to hit all three of them. The jets sputtered to life, and he leaned back against the tub once more and let the force of the whirling water attack his skin from all sides. Through hooded eyes his gaze fell on Victor, who was watching him with a smile from the door where he had switched off the lights, leaving the bathroom in the dim glow of the candles and the tub.

“Get in here,” Yuuri told him, raising his voice to make sure Victor could hear him over the rumble of the jets.

“What’s this button for?” Yuuri pointed at the silver knob on the right side of the tub when Victor was leaning back against him after they had splashed around like kids for a bit and gotten each other thoroughly wet, as if the several water swirls all around them weren’t doing enough of that yet.

“This?” Victor hummed. “The lights.”

“You mean the ligh _t,_ ” Yuuri said, hitting the ’t’ at the end pointedly. “Don’t tell me that this changes too. Because that would be utterly over the top and decadent.”

Victor merely grinned, which had Yuuri gaping and pressing the button. Sure enough, the blue light changed slowly into purple, from purple into red, orange, yellow, lime, green. It went through all the shades of the rainbow and then some, and Yuuri couldn’t help but mutter under his breath how ridiculous all this was, and how fantastic, and that he would never leave this bathtub again.

“Fine by me,” Victor sighed and snuggled closer into him. The top of his head came up to Yuuri’s chin because the tub had an inbuilt step as a seat on which Yuuri was sitting, so Victor was little lower, scooting back between Yuuri’s legs. He didn’t sit still for long. His arms came up first, reaching back behind Yuuri’s head. Yuuri leaned down a little to kiss his temple and nuzzle every inch of Victor’s face he could reach.

The whirlpool jets stopped automatically after ten minutes, leaving them with the changing lights dipping their bodies in soft colours in the silence of the bathroom with the softly lapping water and the sound of their breathing. Victor tilted back his head for a kiss, and their kisses sounded wet and breathy, echoing in the still, tiled room. Yuuri reached down to caress Victor’s sides under water. It didn’t take long for Victor to shift and turn around so that he sat astride Yuuri’s lap. Yuuri carefully moved down the small step to the ground of the bath to give Victor more room to wrap his legs around his waist. He was laughing quietly.

“Yuuuuri! Are you laughing at me?” Victor looked at him, wet hair sleeked back completely, leaving his face unfamiliarly open.

“No. It’s just…” Yuuri kissed the pout from Victor’s lips and wrapped his arms around him. “Who would have thought that this is hiding under your three-piece-suits? You’re like a completely different person.”

“It’s the hair.” Victor winked and sleeked it back some more with one hand he dipped in the bath water.

“It’s not the hair.” Yuuri shook his head and became serious. “It’s a side of you that I didn’t expect. You’re…” He sighed happily. “Clingy.”

“I have always been clingy, according to Sara.” Victor cocked his head.

“No. Different clingy. You’re letting yourself be… vulnerable. Open. I feel like I’m getting to see you like nobody else has seen you before.”

“Well, there’s certainly nobody else who has seen me like _this_ before,” Victor stated. He rocked his hips into Yuuri’s, brushing their cocks together under water. Yuuri groaned quietly.

“It feels like you’re handing over control,” he said softly. “Like you trust me completely.”

“I am, Yuuri.” Victor looked at him, very solemnly. “I do.”

Yuuri leaned his forehead against Victor’s. “Is it scary?” he whispered.

“Very,” Victor whispered back.

“I’ll take care of you.” Yuuri kissed him.

“I know.” Victor kissed him back.

They kissed, needy and open-mouthed, arms wrapped around each other for a long while until they let their hands roam and explore like it was the first time all over again. Yuuri rubbed the tips of his thumbs over Victor’s nipples, drawing a gasp from him.

“You like that, don’t you?” Yuuri murmured against his ear.

Victor nodded and moaned not so quietly when Yuuri started working his nipples between his fingers. He gave Yuuri quiet commands that had Yuuri pinching harder, and Yuuri knew he possibly drew pain but the sounds Victor made were those of utter arousal.

“I can do that for hours.” Yuuri motioned for Victor to lean back so that he could grasp one taut nipple with his mouth and work it with his tongue.

“Perfect. Please do,” Victor groaned, fisted his hands in Yuuri’s hair and rose on his knees to bend into the touch of Yuuri’s mouth.

“The water will get cold.” Yuuri bit down gently on one nipple and soothed the sting with his tongue.

“I don’t care. Just don’t stop!” Victor rasped out between pleading for more.

“Perhaps we should get you some clamps.”

Victor hissed and pulled Yuuri’s head closer, but Yuuri worked himself out of his grasp.

“Look at you, hiding actual kinks under your suits, deputy CEO Nikiforov,” he grinned.

“Yuuuuri!” Victor actually blushed. Yuuri was delighted. He had expected a snarky comment now, but this was much better, another detail to file away for later use. His arms came around Victor again, holding him as he let him take pleasure from moving against him. One hand snaked down Victor’s spine and lower back, fondled his arse and dipped two fingers between firm cheeks. He was still somewhat lubed up and stretched deliciously from earlier. Victor’s buried his face against Yuuri’s shoulder and held on tight, moving rhythmically in his lap, moaning quietly against his skin. Yuuri had thought he had seen all possible facets of Victor but this one was a whole new level of sexy, and if he only had him like this for one night, he was going to make the most of it.

“You’re so good for me, Vitya, so precious,” Yuuri said quietly as he teased Victor with two fingers and stroked his cock with his other hand. “I want to love you all night.”

“God, Yuuri, I need you to!” Victor raised his head and looked at him.

“Let’s get back to bed then.”

Yuuri was pretty sure they would fall asleep from exhaustion at some point, more so from the emotional drain than the physical one, but he chose not to bring this up now. They stood up, slightly unsteady on their feet, holding onto each other’s hands as they stepped out of the bathtub and reached for the towels Victor had placed beside the bath. Candles were quickly blown out, the lights in the tub switched off but that was already more than anyone could expect from them in the current situation.

_Some people are born for each other, they love to walk holding the other one's hand_

The music was still playing in the bedroom and Yuuri felt like he had greatest gift in his lap. Victor placed his hands on Yuuri’s shoulders, kneeling above him for a moment letting Yuuri tease him with the head of his cock until he sank down in one move that knocked the air out of Yuuri’s lungs. He wasn’t at all sure whether he had prepared Victor enough but the friction seemed to be just right, for Victor threw back his head and closed his eyes, slowly rose on his knees and sank back down again, teeth buried in his bottom lip as if he was concentrating on the feel of every inch of Yuuri filling him.

Yuuri cursed quietly under his breath. Victor sheathed his cock so deliciously with every move, he felt like he was swelling even more inside him. Victor’s eyes flew open and his arms wrapped tighter around Yuuri’s neck as he brought his face close to Yuuri’s.

“Yuuri! You feel so good…” He moaned the words more than he spoke them, his mouth searching hungrily for Yuuri’s, his tongue diving deep between Yuuri’s lips.

Yuuri’s hands caught his hips and held him steady, soon finding a rhythm that allowed him to add force to every time Victor slammed down on his cock by pulling him at the same time, enabling him to hit so deep that he was worried for a moment it could be too much, though Victor’s reactions of acute pleasure quickly scattered his anxiety. He wondered if this was what Victor had felt, that first night they’d spent together, when he’d given Yuuri free reign over their lovemaking. Had Victor felt this thrilled to see him fall apart and be the one to catch him? Had Victor felt this absolute giddy pride of being the person to bring forth such oblivious devotion, such trust? Had Victor felt this love for the person who let himself go in his arms? For him? For Yuuri?

Yuuri certainly didn’t ever want anyone else to see Victor like this. This Victor was for him, only for Yuuri.

He let go of Victor’s hips and gripped a handful of his hair instead while he worked his other hand between their bodies until he found Victor’s cock and began to stoke him off in swift strokes that made Victor cling harder to him, tongue-fucking his mouth. Yuuri breathed hard through his nose, closed his eyes to feel every sensation manifold, the leaking tip of Victor’s cock under his thumb as he drew slow circles over the head, the tightening of his balls as he sneaked his fingers further, and then hot spurts of cum and Victor breaking free from their kiss to cry out Yuuri’s name and gulp desperately for air.

Victor stilled his movements and remained panting in Yuuri’s lap.

Yuuri wiped his hand on the bed as discreetly as he could before he cupped Victor’s face with both hands.

“Are you okay?” he asked and kissed Victor very softly on the lips.

Victor’s eyes opened again. He smiled, and Yuuri’s heart sang.

“Yuuri… I love you…” He pressed his forehead against Yuuri’s, looking at him like he was a dream.

“Good. I love you too,” Yuuri smiled, because he felt he would have cried otherwise. “So much.”

Victor took a deep, shaking breath. He looked overwhelmed. “Sometimes I just get blindsided by how much I missed this…this feeling… being with you… how much I need you, just you…”

“I felt the same. It’s okay. I’m here now.” Yuuri caressed his face, kissed him everywhere he could reach. “I’m here, Vitya.”

Very carefully, he manoeuvred them forward and down onto the bed until he had Victor on his back, Victor’s legs still wrapped around his waist like he never ever wanted to let Yuuri go. Yuuri reached for Victor’s hands on the bed, wound his fingers tight around Victor’s and started fucking hard and fast into him, chasing his own orgasm until he felt the familiar tingle in his abdomen and the small of his back and rode it out with a couple of stuttering thrusts before he pulled out and quickly discarded the condom with tissues. On a whim, he slid down on Victor’s body to lick off the remnants of cum from Victor’s chest and stomach, much to Victor’s embarrassed and squirming protest.

“Yuuuuri! So naughty.” Victor pulled him up into his arms.

“You love it.”

“I wish I could feel you inside me all the time,” Victor murmured sleepily.

Yuuri chuckled, but his face turned pink. “We should get some sleep. It’s been a long night.”

He tried to sit up, not an easy feat when Victor refused to let go of him.

“Victor. How can I switch the music off and your fancy night light on?”

“I’ll show you tomorrow.” Victor released Yuuri just long enough to turn over and reach for the buttons in the side of the headboard. Minutes later they were fast asleep, entangled under one blanket.

Victor woke up in the middle of the night, shivering, cold dread gripping him when he thought he was alone. His heart was racing, his chest rising and falling fast because his breathing was so rapid, resounding loudly through his bedroom. He sat up and shook his head, tried to shake off the panic. Slowly, as if to anchor himself, he looked around his bedroom in the dim silvery light. The familiar pieces of furniture. The window. The armchair near it. The door to the bathroom. The shelf with the vase on beneath the small strip of light. The outlines of the small picture frames.

Yuuri.

A smile of relief made his way onto his face, and while his breathing might have calmed, his heart was racing away now. Yuuri had stolen the blanket completely for himself and wrapped himself in it like a sushi roll. No wonder he felt so cold, Victor thought. Yuuri stirred and mumbled something incomprehensible when Victor started tugging very carefully on the blanket, chuckling softly in the dark because he much to his regret he couldn’t see much more of Yuuri than an unruly mop of black hair, but that alone thrilled him beyond measure.

By the time he had finally managed to get back under the blanket, Victor was wide awake, some parts of him more than others. Yuuri was a furnace, and Victor wrapped his arms around him. Yuuri’s head immediately made a cushion of Victor’s arm as he slid it underneath Yuuri’s neck and brought it around his front in a tight embrace. Victor laughed quietly between kisses to Yuuri’s shoulder when he heard Yuuri complaining about him being cold. It didn’t stop Yuuri from wriggling against him though, making Victor even harder with the way he pushed his arse back into him.

Victor used the hand that was not under Yuuri’s head and held tightly by Yuuri to rediscover the body he had missed so much by his side. He caressed Yuuri’s neckline with his fingertips, loved how that alone made him feel Yuuri shudder. Replacing his fingertips with his mouth, Victor kissed the beating pulse and buried his face in the curve of Yuuri’s neck, overwhelmed for a moment to breathe him in again, this warmth and echo of fresh citrusy perfume and skin, the taste of salty sweat he lapped up with his tongue and that had Yuuri sighing and rubbing his face closer into the skin of Victor’s arm he was clinging to. Victor ran his hand up and down Yuuri’s side and moved to his front, caressed warm chest and brushed the flat of his thumb roughly over a nipple that was already hard and perky. He felt the heat and dampness of Yuuri’s breath were he was panting against his arm and brought his fingers up to cup his chin, tilting Yuuri’s head carefully as he leaned over so he could kiss him. As his tongue dipped deep between Yuuri’s lips and was met with eager strokes, Yuuri drinking from him like a parched man, Victor let his fingers reacquaint themselves fondly with the delectable soft stretch of stomach he listed very high up on his things he missed the most about Yuuri.

Yuuri’s cock lay hot against his stomach, and Victor thrilled at feeling it fill his hand when he closed his fingers around the thick flesh, felt it quivering and straining in his fist. Yuuri broke the kiss, needing to breathe. He brought his face close to Victor’s arm again, moaning quietly against the sensitive inside. He complained audibly when Victor stopped once he had stroked him to full hardness and let his hand wander lower between his thighs. Victor drew a sharp breath when he found his exploring hand trapped between Yuuri’s thighs in an iron grip momentarily, only his thumb free for some movement, circling over Yuuri’s balls while Yuuri rocked himself into Victor’s hand between his thighs and back into Victor’s cock, so much that Victor could almost feel himself nudge deliciously close already between plush butt cheeks. Yuuri shifted, sighing, and Victor withdrew his hand from between his thighs to let it roam along the side of Yuuri’s leg.

“I hope you’re awake, my darling, because I really need to be in you,” Victor murmured against Yuuri’s ear.

“Stop talking and get in me then!” Yuuri said, not the least bit sleepy, grabbed the lube from the bedside table and shoved it into Victor’s hand that was currently copping a good feel of thick thigh.

Victor laughed quietly at the eagerness. God, how he’d missed this.

Just like he had missed _this_ , he thought a little while later, when he was buried to the hilt inside the tight heat of Yuuri’s arse and they were moving together, Yuuri taking him so well like they were made for each other. It had only happened once before but this had been one of the things he had mourned the most - waking up in the middle of the night with Yuuri beside him and making love without forewarning. His name had never sounded better to him than when moaned out loud in pleasure by Yuuri, he thought as he worked one taut nipple between two fingers, bottomed out and pushed back again until they were both groaning and fighting for air to breathe because they were clinging on to each other so tight that moving became an effort. Victor cursed when he felt his hand grabbed and two of his fingers shoved between Yuuri’s lips. Just wishing he could see the lewd visual this would make, Yuuri sucking his fingers deep into his mouth, made Victor move his hips faster.

“Yuuri… what are you…” The rest of his words were swallowed by a breathy moan when Yuuri released his fingers from his mouth with a moist plop and began to lavish Victor’s hand with wet kisses and licks, getting it thoroughly wet before he pulled it down on his cock without warning. He started to fuck into Victor’s hand immediately, slick and hot and eager, and all Victor could do was pick up the pace and pound into him faster. They came together and Yuuri twisted his head around again, searching for a kiss, and Victor leaned over and gave it gladly, sharing the bliss of coming down from this high together. He couldn’t resist a quiet chuckle against Yuuri’s damp shoulder when he took the tissues Yuuri handed him blindly just like Yuuri, ever efficient, had just reached for stuff from the bedside table and handed it back to Victor as needed from the moment he’d started with the lube. They whispered back and forth a little while, breathless, sleepy, happy. Victor got back into the same position and fell back asleep like this, wrapped tight around Yuuri, his heart beating against Yuuri’s back, Yuuri’s heart beating under their tightly wrought hands.

They slept until noon on Saturday and were just in the middle of some lazy early morning kisses when Yuuri suddenly remembered something.

“Victor!” He shot up in bed like something had bitten him. He looked down at him, panicking. “Where’s Makka??”

“Wow!” Victor laughed and snuggled deeper in the blanket. “It took you about twelve hours of wild monkey sex to remember I have a dog? I’m flattered! Ouch! Yuuuuri! So mean!” He protested when Yuuri gave him a slap against the arm.

Victor reached for his phone he had placed on the bedside table on his side after checking a message earlier when Yuuri had been in the bathroom. He opened a text and showed it to Yuuri. It was a weird calculation that had Yuuri frowning.

“Jenna, my neighbour’s daughter who looks after Makka for me, wants to buy a laptop with the money,” Victor explained. “This is her financing plan she drew up. If she keeps Makka all weekend and brings her back Monday when I come home from work, she has another instalment covered, as she informed me this morning. She is therefore keeping Makka until Monday, but she will be happy to send me pictures.”

“Ripped off by a twelve-year-old.” Yuuri shook his head, looking at him affectionately. “The man I love, ladies and gentlemen.”

Victor pulled him down until he came to lie on his chest, face to face with Victor’s smiling face.

"I love when you say that.” He kissed Yuuri so softly, Yuuri felt weak even when lying down. “What’s he like, that man you love?”

“Oh, he’s all kinds of extra.” Yuuri chuckled.

“Is he handsome?” Victor asked.

"Ridiculously so.” Yuuri brought one hand up to Victor’s face and ran his fingers over the much loved features. “His hair is like nobody else’s, and his eyes are so beautiful. And he wears those three-piece-suits that really do things to me.”

He smiled, and his eyes began to sparkle.

“He’s the sweetest, kindest, most hard-working person I know. He’s amazing at his job, really amazing, the cares about every single person working in his company. He never forgets a name. He invested his own private money into the company in a crisis. Sometimes he works so much he forgets to eat or sleep, and then he really needs someone to feed him and take care of him. His smile, when he’s really happy, when he eats home-cooked food for example, is shaped like a heart, it’s ridiculously cute. I think he feels lonely sometimes, and I hate that. He hides it when he’s sad, or lonely, and I hate that, too. He smiles those smiles that don’t reach his eyes then and he thinks people don’t notice, but I do.”

Victor didn’t take his eyes off of his, but he searched for Yuuri’s free hand with his own and wound his fingers tight around it, placing their hands on his chest between them.

“He sounds like a bit of a sap, that man you love,” he remarked, his voice low and husky with emotion.

“Oh, he is. He’s a terrible sap, and he cries like a baby at romantic movies, and it always makes me want to cuddle him. He’d like that, he’s a notorious cuddler. He owns the second most amazing poodle in the world, and he’s a terrible pushover with children. He likes to spoil people. He has terribly good manners. I love it when we talk about everything, and how he always seems to be able to look right down into my heart, and how he gets me to say things I wouldn’t normally tell anyone else.”

“Is he good in bed?” Victor grinned. Yuuri blushed.

“He’s amazing in bed.” Yuuri stole a kiss. “And he smells so good, sometimes I want to jump him in the office. And he’s super hot when he picks someone apart in a meeting, I want to jump him then, too.”

“Right there, in a meeting?” Victor kissed him a little more passionately.

“Yeah.” Yuuri moaned into the kiss. “I wonder if he’d like that.”

“He’d be an utter idiot not to.” Victor smirked. “And does he have any flaws, too, or is he just overall amazing?”

“Oh!” Yuuri gave him a little kick where their legs were entangled. “He has a ton of flaws!”

“Yuuuuri!” Victor’s eyes widened, and he pouted.

“He pouts.” Yuuri grinned. “It’s ridiculous. But also cute, so it’s not really a flaw. It’s more of a quirk. Like the way he says my name sometimes, ‘Yuuuuri’.”

Victor gaped at Yuuri’s perfect imitation.

“It’s so quirky, but I miss it if I don’t hear that at least five times a day.”

He laughed when Victor didn’t say anything anymore. “He can’t do a single bar chart in Excel to save his life, in fact, he’s quite hopeless in general with computers. He sucks at football. His taste in music is more than debatable. He always has to have the final say. And he’s really, really… like _really_ shit at bets. Absolutely terrible.”

Yuuri raised their entwined fingers to his mouth and kissed them. “I’ve been crazy about him for months, and I love being in love with him. It’s the best feeling in the world and makes me really happy.”

They kissed for the longest time, sighing against each other’s mouths, tongues playing, lingering.

“Yuuri.” Victor repeated the kiss Yuuri had placed on their entwined fingers. “Have I told you about the man _I_ love?”

“Vikutoruuuu…” Yuuri turned very pink.

Victor wriggled his eyebrows, and Yuuri knew there was no way out of this.

“See, the man I love is the most beautiful person I have ever met, and not just on the outside, on the inside, too. He is smart, ambitious, dedicated, and he’s absolutely outstanding at snapping into action and taking care of things. And people. He takes such good care of the people around him that you just always want to come back once you were lucky enough to have been invited over to his place. He makes the most amazing bento boxes, and he likes to feed people he cares about, especially when he knows they work late.”

Victor cradled his cheek into Yuuri’s hand that was still cupping his face.

“ _He_ owns the second most amazing poodle in the world…”

They both laughed.

“And he has the best friends in the whole world. They all would walk through the fire for one another, and it’s so inspiring and wholesome to be around them. He’s kind, and funny, and I love talking to him, and I love that I can be silent with him and it never gets uncomfortable. He makes me feel like home.”

Victor swallowed hard and they looked at each other for a long moment.

“He loves Makka. That’s invaluable. And sometimes, when he says my name when he’s little emotional or drunk, his Japanese accent will be stronger and the ‘V’ will sound more like a ‘B’ and he will add in two more syllables and say it like ‘ruuuu’ in the end, and it does so many things to me, I can’t even begin to tell you.”

Yuuri’s blush deepened.

“He owns the ugliest sweater the world has ever seen and refuses to burn it because he’s so stubborn. Same goes for the ugliest tie ever. And he can be a bitch when he’s been messed with, because he’s so headstrong. And sometimes he gets anxious and tends to overthink, and then he may not see clearly, and he may also get a little silly and run away, even from something he actually wants.” Victor smiled.

Yuuri thought back at the previous night and felt called out.

“And I know he cries, sometimes easily, and it touches my heart. And he’s forgiving, even when someone really hurts and disappoints him because he’s being an idiot who leaves a stupid situation run on too long.”

Yuuri squeezed his fingers even tighter.

“And when he has an idea or is excited or plotting some mischief, his eyes sparkle. He’s as stubborn as they come, even when he loses a shitty bet and his friend makes him wear ridiculous outfits all week long but he would rather cut off an arm or a leg than not rise to a challenge.”

They laughed. Victor stole a kiss, and his voice sounded emotional when he continued.

“He is drop dead gorgeous, but he’s not aware of it, unless he’s drunk or angry, then he’ll throw the charm out there and I swear to god, he’s leaving millions of people left and right gagging for it. He hates having his picture taken which is a shame because he is so beautiful. He’s a fantastic dancer, I could watch him dance forever, even though it kills me what he’s able to do with his hips. He has the most adorable stomach in the world…”

Victor brushed his free hand along Yuuri’s stomach. Yuuri shuddered.

Victor’s hand found Yuuri’s arse, squeezing for good measure. “And he has the most glorious arse the world has ever seen. I want to spend the rest of my life with my mouth or my cock between those butt cheeks. And I love it when he’s naughty and that he is not afraid of telling me things, like what he would love to do to me or what steamy dreams he has about me, and I don’t ever want him to stop telling me about those because we are going to make every single one of them come true.”

Victor brought his other hand up to Yuuri’s face and cupped his cheek like Yuuri was cupping his.

“I love him with all my heart and I don’t ever want to spend another day or night without him because he’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and I know for a fact that he’s crazy about me, so I’m hopeful.”

“You don’t know that for a fact,” Yuuri said. He sounded teary.

“Oh, but I do.” Victor grinned. “It’s not every day a man loses a dance battle for staring at me.”

Yuuri shut him up with a kiss. A very long, soul-searching, tongue-delving kiss that made Yuuri squirm against Victor’s body and Victor grab his arse and press him closer against him.

“You know…” Yuuri was breathless when they finally came apart. “I’ve always wondered when people said they were so in love they just stayed naked in bed all weekend long… does that actually work? I mean, apart from going to the bathroom.”

“Do you want to try and find out?” Victor gave him a wicked grin that spoke right to Yuuri’s grim determination and competitive spirit.

Sparkles were dancing in Yuuri’s eyes. “Absolutely.”

They spent early Saturday afternoon sitting side by side in Victor’s bed, leaning against each other with their phones in hand, reading and replying to texts from friends and checking on their dogs via messages and photos, though denying Guang Hong’s offer to video call, which earned them a text from him stating:

_Right. You probably haven’t made it out of bed since last night and look the part. xD_

Time and again they would show each other pictures from the Christmas party that had come in from various sources, laughing or wincing in unison. Guang Hong sent a snapshot of Leo lying hungover on their living room couch, face contorted with pain while he wore one of Guang Hong’s bright pink, plushy sleeping masks to shield his eyes from the sunlight. Yuuri had a message from Yura asking if he was okay and he texted him back assuring him he was fine. Yura replied with a picture, looking hungover but with the biggest grin on his face, the empty bottle of champagne recognisable on a shelf behind his bed like a remnant of a trophy he had brought back home.

Victor’s phone rang at some point, and Yuuri looked up, only to see him frown at the screen and reject the call. A brief glance had been enough for Yuuri to see who was calling, and he lowered the phone in his hand. 

“I heard you last night, you know,” he said quietly.

Victor looked at him, one eyebrow raised in question.

“You and Chris. In the bathroom. I…” Victor’s jaw dropped in horror. Yuuri started twisting the edge of the blanket in his hand. “I’d hidden in one of the stalls to… have a little cry, I guess, and try to gather enough courage to talk to you. Then you came in, and I couldn’t… I didn’t want to walk out and meet you.”

“I…” Victor exhaled very slowly. He dropped his phone on the bed and gripped the blanket as if for support. “Yuuri, I’m so sorry. I’m sorry you had to listen to that.”

He looked crestfallen. Yuuri took the hand Victor was fisting in the blanket and held it between both his hands. 

“That was… scary,” Yuuri said.

“He was very drunk. In a lot… a _lot_ of pain. He didn’t know what he way saying.”

“I think he did,” Yuuri insisted.

Victor took a deep breath. “Yuuri, I know I promised you just last night to always tell you things, but… I’d rather not talk about Chris right now. It hurts. It hurts me for him, and it hurts me for me, and for you, and I really don’t want this right now. You’re probably very shaken by the things you had to hear him say to me, and so am I, but… I know where it’s coming from, and I know it’s hurting him more than me. And I guess your opinion of him will be so much worse now than it already was, but please trust me, there are reasons for all this, in Chris’ family.”

Yuuri moved a little more to face him, lifting one hand to brush Victor’s fringe from his eyes. “Most of all I hate that he brings this sad expression to your face.”

Victor took hold of Yuuri’s hand and placed a kiss in the palm. “I will patch things up with him eventually because he’s… he’s like a brother to me, you know? But not right now. I don’t want this here right now. I don’t want anyone or anything else on my mind just now. Just you. Us. The world can wait. Chris can wait. Just… try not to hate him, if you can. He hates himself enough for the whole world right now.”

“Do you know something else really amazing about the man I love?” Yuuri moved around so that he was able to face Victor fully and cup his face with both hands. “He’s the best friend in the whole wide world.”

Victor smiled weakly. “I thought that was Phichit.”

“Oh, we just…” Yuuri winked.

“… never tell Phichit,” Victor finished for him and pulled Yuuri in for a kiss and a tight embrace.

They lowered the blinds and watched ‘Om Shanti Om’ on the laptop in bed in the dim Saturday afternoon light, cuddled up under the blanket. Victor dozed off at some point, and Yuuri turned down the volume and watched him sleep. He enjoyed that he unexpectedly had some time to himself to think about things, and to love how his heart expanded with the sheer happiness of every single breath Victor took beside him. He grinned to himself as he snuggled back against Victor’s back, his head raised by two pillows so that he could watch the movie by himself.

When Victor woke up, he was horny, squirming back against Yuuri until he got the reaction he wanted.

“Mhmm, Yuuuuri… need you!” He sounded like a big, pouting cat.

“Again?! I think you should really give it a rest? You’re going to be so sore.” Yuuri kissed the back of his neck.

Victor turned his head in his arms and looked back at him. “I _love_ you, Yuuri.”

“You’re playing dirty, Nikiforov.” Yuuri huffed. “Give me the lube!”

Victor gave him the lube, and a condom, too, confident that he would get exactly what he wanted.

“And stop grinning!” Yuuri added a short time later as he positioned himself. “This is definitely the last time!”

“You’ve said that every time,” Victor replied, and then didn’t say anything for a little while because Yuuri was filling him so perfectly and he had to let him know _how_ good he made him feel, panting and moaning quietly as they moved together, slow and sweet while they were both still watching the movie.

“Wow! This can be the first Bollywood movie during which you fucked me into stunned silence!”

“I should be so lucky,” Yuuri muttered but tried his best to at least make Victor stop _talking_.

Victor ordered pizza on Saturday evening via an app on his phone while Yuuri went down on him, sucking and licking him good until he had him rock hard, which was when Yuuri put a condom on him. It was Saturday evening, so the delivery times were long, which gave Victor enough time to give in to Yuuri’s urging and drive him hard and fast into the mattress until Yuuri came so strong it actually made him laugh because he was so overwhelmed.

“What the hell…” Victor laughed, too, and pressed his forehead against Yuuri’s.

“I don’t know.” Yuuri moved his flushed, sweaty face on the bed as he shook his head and looked absolutely happy. “It was just so… good!”

He pulled Victor’s face down against his chest and held on to him a little longer, like he never wanted to let go, his heart beating frantically under the soft pressure of Victor’s lips.

When the doorbell rang, Victor had just finished a shower and went to open the door straight from the bathroom. Lazing around in bed like only someone who had just been thoroughly loved could, Yuuri assumed that Victor would at last have put on a bathrobe, so he did a double take when he caught a glimpse of him crossing the living room through the open bedroom door.

“Victor! Put some pants on!!” Yuuri called out, scandalised.

He blushed when he heard the laughter from the hallway but knowing he was in no state to show himself to whoever Victor was opening the door to, he stayed put in bed, just hiding his embarrassed face in the pillows. That man! That infuriating man!

“Hi Victor.” The pizza delivery guy didn’t bat an eye when Victor opened the door to him naked and someone was yelling from the bedroom. They knew each other well, this being the only place whose pizza could live up to Victor’s expectations other than Celestino’s.

“You wouldn’t believe how some people open the door to the pizza delivery guy,” he laughed. “A handsome naked man is quite a relief.”

Victor laughed out loud as he took the two cartons and handed over his money, including a generous tip as usual.

“You look much happier,” the delivery guy said. “Was that your man yelling from the bedroom? Is he back?”

Victor nodded and the man handed him his money back.

“Keep it. This one’s on the house.”

Victor took the money except for the tip and saw him off with more laughter before he closed the door.

“You are impossible!” Yuuri shook his head when he walked into the bedroom with the pizza cartons. “You cannot open the door to the pizza guy naked!”

“Of course I can, Yuuri, I just did. He was very smitten.”

“He was _what_!” Yuuri shot up on his knees on the bed, eyes narrowed. All pizza delivery guys he knew were young, or girls, and more than just a few of them regularly tried to come on to him to him when he opened the door.

“He’s a nearly sixty year old Italian papa with a very jealous wife and worships the ground she and his children and grandchildren tread on,” Victor laughed. “I promise he has no interest in my naked body at all.”

“He’d better!” Yuuri huffed.

“Why, are _you_ interested in my naked body, Yuuri?” Victor flicked his hair and gave him a wink.

Yuuri’s eyes were on the pizza cartons. “Give me food first, then I might consider it.”

“So are we doing this not leaving the bed for one whole weekend thing or not?” Victor asked, eyes sparkling.

Their eyes met across the room. They grinned, and Yuuri nodded slowly.

“Perfect. I’ll get some napkins and wine.”

They watched another movie on the laptop in bed, eating pizza and drinking wine, until they lost interest in the movie and started kissing and quickly moved everything from the bed because they acutely needed to make love until they rolled onto their backs, panting, sated, laughing when they turned their heads on the bed to face each other.

They lay awake long into the night, whispering, talking, sharing secrets that they’d never told anyone else before, made love again until they slept. They slept until one of them would wake up needy, and nudge the other one awake too and they made love again. 

When Victor came from the kitchen with two mugs of coffee on Sunday morning, Yuuri was lying on his stomach on the bed looking at something on his phone.

“What are you looking at?” Victor asked as he put one mug on the bedside table and sat down on the bed.

“Mhm…” Yuuri hummed. “Maybe your birthday present?”

The smile on his face was absolutely wicked when he turned the phone around to show Victor.

Victor just about managed to stop himself from spitting coffee all over his bed.

Yuuri had been scrolling through an online sex shop.

Laughing, Yuuri pulled himself up on his knees. “I’m kidding. I just wanted to see you make that face.”

He placed a kiss on the top of Victor’s head before he scrambled off the bed and walked over to the bathroom, his cheerful laughter only muted when he closed the door.

Victor reached for Yuuri’s phone before the lock screen could come on. One eye and ear on the bathroom door, he quickly skipped through the pages Yuuri had been looking at, his eyes widening as he grinned around his coffee mug. If he knew one thing for sure it was that Yuuri had not been kidding and it was probably a very different face he wanted to see Victor making. He placed his coffee on the bedside table next to Yuuri’s and quickly snapped a few screen shots with his own phone for further reference. When Yuuri came back from the bathroom, wet from the shower with a towel around his neck and a brand-new blue toothbrush Victor had handed him proudly the previous day in the corner of his mouth, his phone was where he had left it and Victor sat in bed leaning against the headboard, drinking coffee and looking like he had sat there all this time looking at pictures of Makkachin on his phone.

On Sunday afternoon, after an extensive bubble bath, Yuuri worshipped Victor like he was made of most fragile glass. The man was driving him insane. Not that Yuuri didn’t have the stamina to keep up with him. But the slightest touch of his by now too sensitive nipples made Victor hiss from overstimulation, and Yuuri knew he was sore, and Yuuri hated that. But he loved how Victor clung to him and needed and pleaded until Yuuri couldn’t resist because it was the best feeling he had ever had in his life, being in love and able to express this in every possible physical way with the man who was just as much in love with him. So he treated him with utmost care, with all the loving tenderness his mouth and hands were capable of, and when Victor clung to him and drove him deeper with the sheer force of his legs around Yuuri’s waist, how was Yuuri to not let his heart and soul soar like they wanted at the sight of Victors blissed out smile beneath him?

Early Sunday evening, Yuuri got out of bed, retrieved his phone and dialled Phichit’s number.

“Yuuuuriiiii!!!! You live!” Phichit exclaimed in greeting. “I was about to send a search party after you!”

“You weren’t, Peach, you’ve known exactly where I was all this time,” Yuuri replied drily.

He peered out the bedroom window at the city lights, darkness already settling on this November day that he had, and he couldn’t believe it, spent completely in bed. Just as he reached the part of that thought that involved the reason he had been in bed all day, he turned around and nearly dropped his phone.

Victor was leaning back against the headboard of the bed, looking straight at him while he had one hand on his chest and the other one on his cock, playing with himself. Yuuri rolled his eyes for good measure. He very nearly asked if the man couldn’t behave himself for five minutes but he still had Phichit rambling on the phone.

“Peach, I need a favour,” Yuuri said and shot Victor a warning glare across the room.

Victor smiled at him. He brought one finger to his mouth and licked it before he started circling his nipple with the wet digit. Yuuri felt his cock stirring and turned his back on the bed.

“Could you bring round some clothes for me to wear to work tomorrow?” Yuuri asked.

In the window, Yuuri could see Victor’s reflection, and he knew Victor knew he could see him too, for he was putting on quite a show, licking his hand like he knew Yuuri liked to do, before he gripped his cock and started to stroke himself with slow, sensual motions.

“There is only one reason,” Phichit said at the other end of the line, “and one reason alone that I can accept being coaxed into doing this, and that is that _someone_ …” He paused and placed a meaningful cough to the word, and it was clear he was referring to Yuuri.

“… has been naked since he left the Christmas party and is getting fucked so good he cannot possibly get his own clothes for work.”

“Yeah. That,” Yuuri said, watching Victor in the window, working his cock and nipples, and. The cheek of him! Yuuri swallowed hard, watching with narrowed eyes how Victor slid down a little on the bed and spread his legs.

“Yuuri! Say it like you mean it!” Phichit said patiently, clearly getting a kick out of this.

“Fine.” Yuuri swung round, firing daggers with his eyes at Victor on the bed. “ _Someone_ …” he put the same emphasis on the word but meaning someone else than Phichit. “… has been naked since he left the Christmas party and is getting fucked so good he cannot possibly get his own clothes for work.”

Said someone else was currently coating his fingers with lube. Yuuri watched, mouth going dry, desperate to take his cock in hand and stroke himself to full hardness but for one he didn’t want to give Victor that point, and second, this was the very last thing he ever wanted to do when he had his best friend on the phone. Because Phichit Chulanont would _know_ and he would never let Yuuri live this down.

There was silence on the other end of the line, then he heard fake sobbing. “My boy!” Phichit exclaimed dramatically. “Look at you, all grown up. I am so proud of you, Yuuri!”

“For fuck’s sake!” Yuuri muttered. It was a fitting reply to Phichit, even though he meant Victor, who was giving him a very lewd show on the bed, eyes locked with Yuuri and an absolutely dirty smirk on his face while he slipped his fingers way back between his thighs.

_Stop that!_ Yuuri mouthed at him, waving his phone for good measure.

Victor bit down on his bottom lip and started fingering himself.

If looks could kill Yuuri would have deep-fried him right at his moment. His cock was aching with the need to be touched. Preferably by Victor’s perfectly tight arse.

“What suit do you want me to pack?” Phichit asked. “Or can I pick?”

“Any suit will be fine,” Yuuri said, eyes widening in disbelief when Victor, damn him, turned over onto his hands and knees on the bed, presenting Yuuri with his arse. “Just bring me clothes. Peach, I’ve got to go. See you in a bit.”

He rang off and threw his phone into the chair near the window without looking.

“ _You…_!!!” He started but was at a loss for words, because he was looking at Victor’s fingers, listening to him laugh, and then, moan for good measure.

“I suppose I should be grateful that you didn’t start the audio while I was on the phone!” Yuuri didn’t take his eyes off of him as he crossed the distance to the bed with a few determined steps, biting back the laughter as he reached for a condom from the bedside table and ripped open the foil.

“You better make this quick, Phichit will be here soon,” Victor teased, looking back at him over his shoulder.

“Don’t worry, you won’t even last that long with what I’m about to do to you,” Yuuri said unceremoniously, climbed onto the bed behind him and pushed Victor’s upper body face down into the pillow while he nudged his thighs apart with his knees.

Victor laughed quietly, and then Yuuri drove his cock into him and he stopped laughing and started moaning and crying out Yuuri’s name with pleasure instead.

“Yuuuuri! Put some pants on!”

Of course Victor waited exactly until he could be sure Yuuri had opened the door to Phichit and asked him inside the narrow hallway before he yelled from the bedroom, unlike Yuuri the night before without even a hint at exasperation but full-on amused.

“Nothing I haven’t seen before, Nikiforov!” Phichit yelled back into the apartment over Yuuri’s shoulder.

Loud laughter was heard from the bedroom.

Yuuri resigned to his fate, blushing as he held the bagged suit and smaller bag of clothes and toiletries Phichit had handed him to his body like a fruitless attempt at covering himself.

“Yuuri, you look like you haven’t slept in weeks, you reek of sex, you’re covered in hickeys and scratches, and I’m pretty sure that’s the wall in your back I can see right through your eyes there, which tells me you’ve had your brains fucked out good.” Phichit placed one hand on his heart. “I’m so proud!”

“Peach!” Yuuri rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t hold back a smirk.

“I’m not going to hug you though as long as you’re covered in sex germs. I was also going to take a picture of you for Vicchan so that he’d remember what you look like but I won’t do that either because this is no sight for children, Katsu-damn!” He wriggled his eyebrows meaningfully.

“Phichit!” Yuuri groaned. “Is Vicchan alright?”

“Of course he is. Don’t worry about him. Just enjoy your shag feast, okay?”

And now he did lean in for a brief hug, moving just his upper body in such a comically careful manner that Yuuri gave his shoulder a little shove and told him “You’re ridiculous!” as they came apart.

“Bye, Victor,” Phichit called out. “You better give this one another good pounding, he can still walk!”

“Will do. Bye, Phichit!” Victor’s cheerful voice came from the bedroom.

“Get out of here,” Yuuri giggled. “And thank you so much for this, Peach.”

“All good. One day you’ll do the same for me, and I won’t let you forget it.” Phichit opened the door. He nodded towards the inside of the apartment. “Tell that one the next time he hurts you I’ll definitely castrate him.”

“He won’t.” Yuuri saw him off with a grin and closed the door behind him.

He placed his clothes on the couch in the living room and went back into the bedroom.

“Peach says to tell you the next time you hurt me he’ll castrate you,” he remarked as be climbed back into the bed and into Victor’s waiting arms.

“If I ever hurt you again I deserve no less.” Victor hugged him tight and placed a kiss on his temple.

“Aren’t you hungry, my darling?” Victor asked after a while of just lying closely entangled, just being.

“Aren’t you sore?” Yuuri smiled but there was concern in his expression that he could badly mask.

“I’ve never been better.” Victor, looking a complete wreck, smiled back, heart-shaped and happy.

Yuuri cooked dinner with the few ingredients he found in Victor’s fridge and cupboards, trying not to frown too much upon how little Victor had obviously taken care of himself lately. He was wearing one of Victor’s long-sleeved T-shirts, which was long on him and just about covered his arse, though not quite enough for Victor not to whistle and comment with appreciation when he walked into the kitchen.

“You need to go grocery shopping!” Yuuri scolded.

Victor hummed and kissed him just above his ear as he wrapped his arms around him from behind.

“Come with me, Yuuri,” he murmured. “Tomorrow after work?”

Yuuri’s heart was instantly in his throat at the prospect of doing something this… couple-y.

“I thought I’d better go home tomorrow after work… we need to see the kids, we’ve left them with other people all weekend!”

He only became aware of what he had said when Victor wouldn’t stop laughing and teasing. Yuuri groaned. He had actually referred to their dogs as kids.

“Unbelievable,” Yuuri said, stirring in the pasta pot for good measure. “We’re together for five minutes and already your silliness starts rubbing off on me.”

“You love it.” Victor kissed him again, this time at his temple. “How about we go shopping after work, I drive you home, you pack some clothes and your bento things and Vicchan, and we come back here and get Makka and have a quiet night in.”

“Too much driving around,” Yuuri decided. “Besides, I have a lot of bento things. You don’t even have a pan for Japanese omelette.”

“Okay, how’s this then? I’ll get Jenna to drop Makka off at the office, that’s one more hour towards her laptop, so she will very probably agree. We go shopping after work and go to your place.”

“You forgot the part where you pack some clothes to bring for staying over,” Yuuri smiled.

“I didn’t. I plan on being naked the entire time,” Victor deadpanned.

“Okay, Nikiforov. You got yourself a date.”

They ate at the kitchen table and left the dishes in the sink, opting for a shower instead, kissing and caressing when they were not laughing and taking care of each other, washing each other’s bodies and hair until there was not one crevice of skin, one birthmark, one freckle left that they were not aware of about each other.

Victor had changed the sheets while Yuuri was cooking, and the air was chilly in the bedroom from the balcony door being open for a while, but they warmed up quick enough, snuggling up naked under crisp, clean sheets.

“God, you’re insatiable!” Yuuri groaned out between two heated kissed but obediently parted his thighs for Victor’s eager fingers. There wasn’t much preparation needed, he was well stretched. Moments later he was moving with Victor in the almost completely dark room, telling Victor how good he felt inside of him, their fingers entwined on the bed as they made their last love of the weekend until they came together with quiet moans. The shuffling and moving around under the blanket didn’t take quite as long anymore, already they were finding it easier to find a common sleeping position together.

They whispered to each other a little longer, silly words of love and gratitude and happiness. Yuuri assured Victor when he asked him that his night light did not bother him at all. That perhaps one day he might not need it anymore, because Yuuri was there. After all the intimate physical moments and confessions of this weekend, it was this conversation that made them both blush the hardest. They fell asleep with the night light on. Victor assured Yuuri that if he ever didn’t need it anymore, Yuuri would be the first to know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Awwwww. 
> 
> In case anyone wonders: the translation for the sad Bollywood song Victor watches is not the English subtitle but my translation of the German one, which I find more fitting for the heartache.
> 
> Also, I totally made up a name for Papa Crispino and just picked the first Italian male name to came to my mind. You hear a lot of "Massimo!" when you visit an Italian ice cream parlour over here. xD


	12. The Hero In Your Movie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bonus love. Bonus smut.
> 
> Happy ending after every scene.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm late with the update and I'm sorry. I haven't been feeling well this week and last night I lost a lot of writing time because I felt a bit sick and just went to sleep. But. Wow, guys. This is it. This is the last chapter. I don't want it to be the last chapter. And I'll be back here next week with the epilogue so I will be doing all my crying and my thank you's then. :( I hope I didn't miss too many typos and that the formatting isn't too wonky. I'm a little tired. 
> 
> Victor says something in this chapter, about wanting to retrace steps and fill in the blanks. This is what this chapter is. I wanted to pick up some loose threads I felt were left in earlier chapters. I wanted to go back to the places they had not been able to be in love at and let them experience all this as happy, horny saps. I wanted to give all of us more moments of... them. ❤️ And then things fell into place again and even an "Is this a bloody YOI fanfiction or what?!" moment happened. You'll see it when you get there. 
> 
> This chapter has a soundtrack. This song came late into my little universe but it's been closely connected to these two boys ever since. If it works where you are - [this song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AzFYW-fKHM4&list=PLACxBNWzScIvAaWuaFBkwhWgoO_5iPFld&index=5&t=0s) is _their_ song.

**12 – The Hero in Your Movie**

In the car on the way to work Monday morning, Yuuri side-eyed Victor carefully. He couldn’t get rid of the feeling that the weekend had left Victor feeling somewhat uncomfortable in delicate places, despite Victor claiming otherwise. Waking up together and sharing some early morning cuddles and kisses had felt like the icing on the cake after their weekend together, and getting up and ready for work had been surprisingly easy and comfortable, moving around each other in Victor’s apartment between bedroom, bathroom and kitchen. The momentary fear that Phichit could have brought him some ridiculous outfit was dispersed quickly when Yuuri unzipped the bag and saw his blue custom-made suit from Milan, the very one he had worn that day he had come on to Chris. Phichit had pinned a note to the front saying:

_This suit needs you to do something_ _good_ _in it. Don’t disappoint me._

“I told you you’d be sore and to give it a rest!” Yuuri remarked in the car.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, my darling, I’m perfectly fine.” Victor beamed. He averted his gaze from the road for just the briefest of moments to smile at him when it was safe to do so.

“Of course you are.” Yuuri sighed. Looking out the window, he tried to bite back a grin.

There was a big meeting scheduled for the morning, as the year-end closing was coming up, crisis or not, and the revenues were more important than ever this year.

Victor got up at some point to present some staff-related figures and winced slightly as he made his way to the front. Repressed laughter went around the room. Yuuri caught the amused faces and the snickers, and Phichit laughing quietly at him across the table, proudly giving him two thumbs up. Yuuri lowered his eyes and stared with interest at the notes on his laptop. He felt a light tap on his arm from the right and looked up to find Leo pointing out the head of marketing three seats down from Yuuri trying to get his attention. Fresh back after a slipped disc surgery and rehab, he was currently only able to sit at his desk on a special soft cushion for his back which he carried with him everywhere. He was offering it to Yuuri now. Not _for_ Yuuri, obviously. Yuuri leaned back in his chair, stretching to the right behind the backs of the chairs to take the cushion as subtly as possible from Mark without interrupting Victor’s presentation.

“So, if this project takes off the way we hope, we will be…”

Victor paused, obviously distracted by the sight of Yuuri’s shirt stretching tight over his chest and biceps as he leaned back in his seat reaching for the cushion. Remembering where he was, Victor blinked and turned back to the presentation on the screen.

He cleared his throat. “We will be able to bring back the annual bonus, not next year, unfortunately, but hopefully the year after.”

He skipped to the next slide.

Yuuri rose from his seat, walked the couple of steps over to Victor’s abandoned one and placed the cushion on it. He glared at Victor, daring him to interrupt his presentation again. Back in his seat, Yuuri tried to ignore the next bout of snickering and repressed laughter around the room as he sat face-palming and shaking his head, though the hand in front of his face served more to hide a smug grin, more or less successfully.

At the end of the meeting, Chris cleared his throat loudly to gain everyone’s attention.

“Before you all leave I would just like to say a word…” Chris looked around the room. He swallowed thickly. Took a deep breath. He looked nervous. Almost scared. But he squared his shoulders and raised his eyes, facing his employees.

“I am aware that I have… not exactly shown my best side on Friday night at the Christmas party. Whatever cause there was for that, it had no place at a company event. I am very sorry you had to witness me in such a state, and I hope you can accept my sincere apologies for my inappropriate behaviour.”

Yuuri frowned, looking across the room with narrowed eyes. Had it really been the briefest of encouraging smiles he had just caught on Phichit’s face as he looked to where Chris was sitting?

Yuuri expected Victor to stay behind with Chris, and he did. Not for long and not to speak, just to give him a weak smile and a few affectionate claps on the shoulder before he went back to his office directly from the conference room.

When he caught Sara’s gaze across the room, Yuuri shrugged when she rose her eyebrows in question.

Victor wasn’t back at his desk for long when there was a knock on the door from the conference room.

“Come in,” he called and sighed, knowing that it could only be one person.

Chris slipped in through the door. He looked miserable. For a long moment their eyes locked, a whole lifetime expanding between them, the laughter and tears and successes and mischief of almost thirty years. They’d shared the highest highs and the lowest lows, and now they knew that there was even a next level to that. Chris remained standing by the door, unsure whether to come closer or not.

“Hang on.” Victor leaned forward with a smirk on his face, because some moments in life demanded a smirk, no matter the circumstances, and this was one of them. “I haven’t been able to do this for _months_!”

He pressed a speed dial button on his telephone.

“Georgi. Could you bring us some coffee, please?”

A smug grin passed between them, the world at rights for one split second before Friday night budged his way in again and tore down every fragile connection that might have dared reappear between them.

Victor leaned back in his chair, swivelled round to face the closed door to the conference room where Chris was still standing, his hands behind his back as he leaned against the dark wood.

“So how did you get home Friday night?” Victor asked.

“Ah, you see, that’s the thing.” Chris took a deep breath. “I didn’t.”

Victor shot forward in his seat, then winced in pain and leaned back very slowly. “Please tell me you did _not_ hit on someone in the state you were in and ended up going home with somebody! Chris, for fuck’s sake!”

“Victor! I didn’t!” Chris was appalled. “I could barely remember my name, leave alone say one straight sentence.”

“Then _what_ happened?”

“I don’t remember much. I know someone was driving me home, and I remember that at some point I was crying and I thought I was just going to suffocate in the backseat of a moving car because I felt so sick from drinking and still hearing my father’s voice in my head and from being such a complete and utter arsehole…”

Victor nodded his strong approval at those words.

“… and from crying so hard into the sleeve of my suit I couldn’t fucking breathe. And then I seem to have passed out because the next thing I know is that I wake up in a bed that is not my own. Someone undressed me and folded up my clothes, with my wallet and keys and my phone sitting neatly on top. Tucked me in and placed water and aspirin beside the bed, and a bucket, like we would do for each other in uni when we got really pissed, and put out some clothes for me to wear on the way home. The apartment was empty when I woke up, so I just… left a thank you note, made the bed, and quietly slipped out and went home.”

“Someone took care of you.” Victor smiled, surprised. And glad. Then his brows crinkled in thought. “Who?”

“I’m… not under the impression that they want anyone to know.”

“But _you_ know? You didn’t end up in some stranger’s bed?” The concern was very audible in Victor’s voice.

“No.” Chris shook his head. “I know.” 

Silence lingered as the minutes ticked by. It wasn’t their usual kind of silence, not the comfortable kind that you could spend hours in, happily lounging around side by side. This was the nasty kind. They had no experience with this one.

“Victor, I’m—” Chris started but Victor cut him off right away.

“Chris. This is the best thing ever to happen to me in my life. And you nearly ruined it for me.”

“Victor, I am so sorry. I was way out of line. I was completely off the rails…”

“I know. I know you were hurting. But you went too far this time.”

“Victor…” Chris looked devastated. “Can we...”

“Not tonight.” Victor shook his head. He didn’t need to say why he wouldn’t be available to spend time with Chris, just like he didn’t need to hear the question Chris had been about to ask. He heaved a sigh.

“Chris. Give me some time. I love you, you know that. You’re the closest thing I’ll ever have to a brother, but this shook me up. It hurts. I hurt. And it hurts Yuuri, and I cannot have that. He’s been hurt enough over this shitty idea of ours.”

“He’s looking at me as if he’s going to deep-fry me with his eyes any moment.” Chris smiled a little. “For you. He wants to deep-fry me for you. Despite all, it makes me happy you have found someone like that.”

Victor smiled, too. He took a deep breath. “I’m here for you. Perhaps we can go for that drink later in the week. I would like to… not screw things up with Yuuri again.”

The door opened after a small knock of politeness that didn’t want a reply. Georgi pushed it open with the side of his arm and brought in a tray. Victor nodded towards the couch.

“Over there, please, Georgi, I think I’ll have my coffee on the sofa today.”

“Of course, Victor.” Georgi bit back a grin as he placed two cups on saucers and a plate of biscuits on the small coffee table and moved it to the middle of the couch.

“What?” Victor asked Chris pointedly when Georgi had retreated from the room and he rose to walk around his desk and sit down very carefully in one sofa corner. His legs remained uncrossed.

“Nothing.” Chris chuckled as he crossed the room to sit down at the other end.

They reached for their coffee cups almost simultaneously, Victor taking a chocolate biscuit at the same time. Chris poured over the selection for a moment and chose a vanilla cream wafer at last. They sat in silence for a while, nursing their coffee and chasing their thoughts. Leaning back into the upholstery, Chris looked at Victor over the brim of his cup. The way they knew each other’s most intimate histories, he would have been able to tell the exact number of years since he had last seen his best friend bedded this well.

“Victor.”

“Chris.”

“You’re one lucky bastard.” Chris grinned across his coffee cup.

“I know.” Victor grinned right back and bit into his chocolate biscuit.

For a moment they sipped their coffee in silence. Then Chris spoke again. He sounded hopeful.

“Is there anything… _anything_ at all I can do?”

Victor thought for a moment. Finally he looked up from his cup, a smirk playing around the corners of his mouth.

“You could call your friend in our hotel in Milan. I need a favour.”

Three floors down in the newsroom, Phichit high-fived Yuuri and patted him on the back like a coach would do to his champion.

“That was the best meeting ever!” he said, and started laughing all over again. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt happier or prouder to be your best friend than I am today. Yuuri! How are you so amazing! Also. You fucking heartbreaker!”

He nudged his head back towards the room behind him where the IT crowd was typing or clicking away behind their screens. “Tissues and ice-cream were needed in here this morning since news made the rounds that Katsu-damn is definitely off the market.”

“Peach!” Yuuri groaned, slightly embarrassed, but he found it hard to stop smiling.

“You deserve all the happiness.” Phichit rubbed Yuuri’s arm affectionately. “Who can blame Victor for not getting enough of that, honestly?”

“Gross!” Yura commented without looking up from his phone.

Phichit and Yuuri looked at each other. And burst out laughing.

As soon as they finished work, they found themselves in the supermarket close to their office. Yuuri spent a lot of time frowning at expensive cheese and antipasti that found their way into the shopping cart and putting them back on shelves, whereas Victor put them back in the cart the moment Yuuri’s back was turned.

“Remember when we came here the first time I came to Bollywood night?” Victor asked as he watched Yuuri trying to choose the best among the potted coriander. “You still haven’t shown me that sari.”

Yuuri looked up. “Last time I danced Bollywood for you, you nearly dropped dead from a bar chair, and I wasn’t even _in a sari_. Are you sure you can handle it?”

“I’m willing to _try_.” Victor grinned, hands clasped together while his forearms rested on the handle of the shopping cart and he had one foot propped up on the lower rail.

Yuuri laughed as he placed one potted coriander in the cart and went to get ginger, spring onions and a small cabbage.

“I’m making _shogayaki_ for dinner,” he said. “It’s good for bento, too. But _you_ need more vegetables in your fridge!”

“What’s _shogayaki_?” Victor wanted to know a little while later, when he had picked enough vegetables to find Yuuri’s approval, and Yuuri placed a pack of thinly sliced pork in the shopping cart.

“Fried pork slices with ginger. It’s one of the most popular Japanese dishes. I’ve made it a million times for the guys, sometimes even spontaneously in the middle of the night when we came home from dancing and were hungry at two o’clock in the morning.”

Victor reached for two more packets of meat and added them to the cart. “Invite them over for dinner,” he said when Yuuri’s eyes widened.

A faint blush crawled up Yuuri’s cheeks. “Really?” he asked, but it was obvious that Victor’s suggestion to have his friends join them for dinner made him happy.

“You don’t… want me all to yourself?” he still asked with a wink.

“Oh, I do.” Victor leaned in to steal a kiss over the meat display and brought his mouth close to Yuuri’s ear, murmuring, “Afterwards.”

Yuuri’s face was glowing crimson for the next three aisles.

Jenna was just walking up to their office building with Makkachin on her leash when they had finished loading the shopping into Victor’s car. Victor didn’t have much time to be upset over Makka heading straight for Yuuri instead of him though because Jenna was tugging on his sleeve.

“Who’s that?” she asked eagerly, pointing towards Yura who just came out of the building.

He didn’t even notice them, his eyes glued to his phone as he pulled the zipper of his lion print jacket all the way up and the hood over his head before he headed off in the opposite direction. However, the brief moment had been long enough for a curious twelve-year-old to catch a glimpse of beautiful teenage boy’s face.

“He’s a very rude Russian boy,” Victor said quickly and turned Jenna in the other direction. “You wouldn’t like him!”

Yuuri looked up from where was kneeling with his arms around Makka. “Girls always like the bad boys, Vitya.” He was laughing. “And where did that protective Papa Bear mode come from all of a sudden?”

Victor didn’t answer but took out his wallet instead to hand Jenna a note.

“Bonus for dropping her off here.” He winked.

“Thank you.” Jenna pocketed the money and set off for the tram stop. “You’re the best, Victor.”

They waved goodbye, and Victor found himself nearly bowled over by Makkachin.

“Have you finally decided to grace me with your attention?” He laughed. “I don’t blame you, I would have run straight for Yuuri too. How’s my favourite girl?” He spent some time cuddling Makkachin on the pavement until he opened the back door of his car and she jumped in, and they were finally able to leave.

When all the groceries were stored away, Yuuri went into his bedroom to get changed. Victor was right behind him, slammed the door shut as soon as they were both in the room, and grabbed Yuuri to pin him with his back against it. The moment they looked at each other the whole atmosphere changed, electricity crackling into life where moments ago they still been only too happy at playing house. Yuuri smiled, and wrapped his arms around Victor’s neck to pull him into a hungry kiss like he had been waiting for this moment for so much longer than just all day.

“Please tell me you have been thinking all day about the last time you wore this suit, too!” Victor moaned against his mouth, his hands already working on Yuuri’s belt.

Yuuri gripped Victor’s hair roughly with both hands. “You mean when we were both so angry we should have fucked in the conference room instead of breaking up?” He drove his tongue deep into Victor’s mouth.

“You mean when I lay in my bed at night jerking off like a desperate man thinking about how I would stop you from leaving the room and shove you against the wall and my tongue down your throat?”

Yuuri’s eyes shot open. Victor positively smirked.

“You touched yourself that night too, Yuuri.”

“Yes.”

“You thought of me when you did it.”

“God, yes!”

“Stay right here and don’t move!”

Victor left him for just a moment to fetch what he needed from Yuuri’s bedside drawer, instinctively going for the right place like he had never left Yuuri’s bedroom. He slipped lube and a condom in the pocket of his suit jacket and came back in a few quick strides across the room until he could brace his arms against the door, his hands beside Yuuri’s head. For a moment they just looked at each other across the short distance, then their mouths crushed together.

“Tell me!” Victor rasped against Yuuri’s mouth. Lips and teeth clashed in sloppy, open-mouthed kisses as they filled Yuuri’s room with needy sounds.

Victor hastily unbuttoned his own pants and pulled the zipper down, and Yuuri’s hand shot down and slipped right in, closed his fingers around the hardness straining against his touch. Victor moaned and pushed into his hand, his own hand palming Yuuri over the unzipped front of his pants.

“I wanted you to grab me and push me against the wall and shut me up with me kiss!”

“Only one?”

“Lots. Lots of rough, greedy kisses until I can’t breathe.”

“I would fuck your mouth with my tongue.”

“Yes!”

And Victor did just that, until they tore apart, frantically gasping for air.

Yuuri’s hands came around Victor’s arse and he ground their erections together. “And then I would grab your arse and pull you into me and make you feel how much you turn me on when you’re so angry.”

“And we wouldn’t even undress properly, just move our pants out of the way.”

Eager hands shoved pants and underwear down without hesitation. Yuuri stepped out of his, but Victor didn’t bother, he just let them pool at his ankles as he leaned in against Yuuri’s mouth again.

“And then I would get some lube from my pocket because I wouldn’t ever go anywhere without any when I’m with you.” His hand dove into his pocket for the lube and he uncapped it one-handed, breathing heavily when Yuuri brought one of his legs up high around his waist.

"And you would finger me open really quick.” Yuuri bent a little in the knee and threw his head back against the door when Victor started doing just that, moaning loud and wet into his ear.

“And you would still be so angry and look at me like you dare me not to make it good for you.” Victor held his gaze with his while he drove his fingers in and out of Yuuri’s eager heat.

“And then you would lift me up with your hands under my arse and I would spread my legs for you as if I was born to do it."

“You’re _not_?”

Yuuri shot him a warning look. A brief smile passed between them.

“And then you would fuck me into the wall of the conference room while everyone is outside…” He hooked his legs tighter around Victor’s waist. Moaned obscenely loud at the feeling of Victor inside him.

“And I’d make you scream my name loud enough for everyone to hear that you’ll never come on to another man again.”

“You would fuck every other name out of my system.”

“Like this.”

“Like this.”

They kissed, fierce and needy like an extension of they way Victor was pounding him into the door. It was quick and messy, and they came within minutes, collapsing in each other’s arms, holding each other up with the door for support in Yuuri’s back.

“Oh god.” Victor’s head fell down on Yuuri’s shoulder. “That was…”

“Long overdue,” Yuuri murmured and ran his hands through Victor’s hair.

Victor chuckled against the collar of Yuuri’s shirt. “You say that like we didn’t just spent a whole weekend in bed.”

Yuuri laughed, too, then fell quiet again.

“Vitya.”

Victor lifted his head to see his face.

“Let’s not ever talk to each other again like we did that day. That was so… disrespectful.”

“We were hurting. We wanted each other to feel the hurt, too.” Victor caressed Yuuri’s face with both hands.

“Let’s not ever do that again either,” Yuuri insisted. He pulled Victor in for a kiss, gentle and nothing like what had just happened and what they had needed to get out of their system.

Yuuri groaned when he looked down at the floor. “Oh god, Andrea must never know what I did to this suit.” The pants lay at his feet and he had trampled on them for good measure after stepping out of them.

“Well, Phichit _did_ tell you to do something good in it.”

They laughed, foreheads touching, hands clasped by their sides, until Yuuri decided that he would have a shower first, alone, or else there would never be any dinner if Victor joined and distracted him.

Dinner was fun and easy-going, though there was a fair amount of snickers and meaningful glances going around the table over _shogayaki_ , rice and finely chopped raw cabbage. Yuuri accepted his fate with a lot of huffing and smiling, Victor without a care in the world and if anything, a very proud smile. After dinner, Victor and Guang Hong took the dogs out again while Yuuri navigated his way through the dishes and bento preparation with Leo and Phichit’s good-humoured teasing. Because they were the best friends in the world, they didn’t hang around longer than absolutely necessary and took their leave as soon as Victor and Guang Hong came back with the dogs. Yuuri bore their grins and especially Phichit’s expressive eyebrow wriggles with as much dignity as he could. When he turned around from closing the door and his eyes landed on Victor lying on his couch buried by poodles, he decided that the sight of this was well worth every ounce of teasing.

Later in bed Yuuri clung to Victor, asking quietly if this was how it had been for Victor to have him back in his bed because the feeling was overwhelming after missing him for so many nights.

“Who’s insatiable now?” Victor laughed quietly when Yuuri refused to let even an inch of space come between them. “What’s gotten into you?”

“I missed you here in my bed,” Yuuri muttered. “I missed… just having this. I love the cuddling too, and just doing… normal things, but… being able to touch you whenever I want. That’s what I missed. I love that.”

“Me too.” Victor’s smile was so soft it made Yuuri want to dissolve. “I couldn’t care less what anyone thinks as long as we have this. That we’re able to have this. Switching from sappy to… this, with just one look. Intimacy. Pleasure followed by pleasure.”

“And who needs sleep anyway?” Yuuri grinned and pulled him into a kiss.

“Sleep is overrated.” Victor agreed and kissed him back, sighing happily when they came up for air.

Yuuri didn’t take his eyes off of Victor’s, fingers of one hand digging into Victor’s arm as he let him pound him deep into the mattress and stroked himself off quickly with the other. Looking at each other the whole time heightened every other sentiment and he came really fast all over his stomach.

Chest heaving, Victor looked down at Yuuri. Post-orgasm Yuuri sprawled on his back, flushed, panting, sweating, looking right back up at Victor. He didn’t need to say the word, but the way he smiled was a dare, a challenge, asking whether Victor was able to keep up with him. Victor’s eyes narrowed, and he suddenly had trouble to hold in a feral sound that wanted to burst from his chest. He was still hard, kneading the inside of Yuuri’s still spread thighs as he pulled out maddeningly slowly. His voice was a low growl that wouldn’t take no for an answer.

“Turn over!”

Yuuri groaned quietly, loving the eroticism of this. He shifted on the bed when Victor scooted back down on the bed a little way to give him some room, one knee drawn up all the way to his chest so that he was able to turn over with Victor still so close, and then very, very close once more. Yuuri drew up his knees a little and then lost track of time and place when Victor was inside him and started to fuck him all over again. Yuuri let himself go. Reaching up he placed one palm on the wall by the head of his bed for support, soon pawing and pounding the wall for good measure with every deep thrust, voicing his pleasure like he knew Victor loved him to do.

“Are you alright sleeping without your fancy night light?” Yuuri asked when they were snuggled up about to go to sleep some time later.

“I’ll be fine.” Victor’s smile was almost audible against his throat. “It seems like _someone_ didn’t draw the curtains all the way so there’s some light coming in from the streetlamp outside.”

“It’s the best I could do,” Yuuri muttered, feeling himself blush a little in the dark.

“It’s perfect.”

Getting ready in the morning was a little more stressful with two eager dogs around, and Yuuri found dragging himself out of bed with Victor still in it was much harder, but Vicchan was adamant to not miss out on their run. So Yuuri ran, taking Makkachin too, and found his tea and toast ready made by Victor when he stepped out of the shower and they were still actually a little early. With some time left to go to work, Victor sat down on the couch and called the dogs to him, cuddling both of them in his lap.

“Sometimes I envy Guang Hong for working from home,” he mused, each hand carding through the fur of a poodle. “He gets to cuddle dogs whenever he’s stuck on something while working. Yuuri! Do you think I would make a good stay-at-home papa?”

Yuuri went very still over the bento boxes he was packing up. A million of thoughts and feelings surged through him at the same time, and he wasn’t sure he really wanted to go there for fear it would slay him.

“You would never get any work done,” he finally said when he looked up, while at the same time he thought, _You would be the_ best _stay-at-home papa in the world!_

Phichit’s smile hit his ears the moment they stepped out of the door and met up by the car. Leo hadn’t been ready when they dropped off Makka and Vicchan with Guang Hong, so while they waited for him to come down, Phichit stepped up to Victor and gave him a commendatory pat on the back.

“Good job, Nikiforov.” He grinned. “At some point I thought Yuuri was going to punch a hole through the wall the way he kept pounding it with his hands.”

Yuuri’s eyes widened, and he flushed crimson within seconds. “You… _what_!” He gaped at Phichit.

“Ah, sorry, I must remember to tie them up next time.” Victor beamed at Phichit.

“Victor!” Yuuri swung round at him.

Leo stepped out of the building at this moment and started laughing when he saw all of their faces.

“Already started, did you?” he asked Phichit while Victor unlocked his car pressing the key in his hand. They had agreed to go in to work in Victor’s car instead of using two cars.

“I had no choice,” Phichit said. “Yuuri has never had anyone over since we live next door to each other. I had no idea how vocal he can get.”

“Okay, I’ll just _walk_ to work, thank you very much!” Yuuri announced, still shell-shocked with embarrassment.

“ _Can_ you?” Phichit and Victor asked almost simultaneously. Leo laughed out loud.

“Yuuuuri! If you’re still able to walk I obviously haven’t done a good enough job and will feel deadly wounded!” Victor teased as he opened the passenger door for Yuuri.

“One day!” Yuuri leaned in really close to Phichit, their noses almost touching. “I will pay you back for this!”

He climbed into the passenger seat and fastened his seat belt, rolling his eyes.

“I’m counting on it!” came Phichit’s cheerful voice from the back seat. He reached between the seats to place one hand on Yuuri’s shoulder like a peace offering. Yuuri gave it a pat, smiling already very weakly through his shame.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Yuuri found himself facing Chris, Victor and Sara in the conference room later that week with Yūko by his side. He had conferred with Yūko about how they could possibly best break it to their management that the Japanese company had reached out to them again. Minami-kun had of course been ecstatic to be able to call Yuuri again, and both Yuuri and Yūko were very aware of how much humbleness and embarrassment had gone into this. They were not quite so sure about especially Chris’ reaction.

“No.” Chris’ reply was quick and expected. Victor and Sara at least merely looked reserved.

“They just dropped talks. After everything we pulled off, last minute, when they sprang that delegation on us. The moment we are not pretty and shiny and promising enough, they chickened out. If they had held on just a little longer… but not like this.”

Yuuri lowered his head, and he knew just from the tone in Chris’ voice that this was pointless. His head shot up again, jaw squared in defiance, eyes glistening.

“They did say ‘under the current circumstances,’” he said, voice firm. “And it was very obvious that it was not an easy decision for them. It came quite late in the crisis, too. They did hold out, for as long as they could.”

Yuuri caught Victor’s eyes across the table. He looked thoughtful, and gave Yuuri the briefest hint of a smile.

“I mean…” Sara cleared her throat. “I was very disappointed when they pulled out. Not because we did all those great things for them when they were here and I felt they owed us. But because they were such wonderful, genuine people. That’s what disappointed me the most.”

For a moment silence lingered heavy over the room. All of them were only too aware of the ruthlessness of the business world. It was easy to mistake business partners for friends. Chris, Victor and Sara looked at each other but didn’t say anything.

“It has cost them a great effort.” Yūko spoke up gently but with confidence. “In Japan, they have already lost face when they reached out to us again. It would be even more compromising if you turned them down now.”

“Are _you_ trying to guilt-trip us?” Sara asked good-humouredly and winked at Yūko.

Yūko flushed. “Of course not. I was only trying to say that… they are aware of this, of losing face yet again, and have still decided to take that risk.”

“Please would you at least consider the possibility?”

Both Yuuri and Yuko reacted instinctively at Yuuri’s request and lowered their heads in a bow.

“You can take them out of Japan, but you can’t take Japan out of them, hm?” Victor said softly.

More glances went back and forth between Chris, Victor and Sara.

“We will consider it,” Chris said at last. He nodded at Yuuri and Yūko. “Thank you very much for your commitment.”

They left the room under many thanks and closed the door behind them. Before she left to go back to her office on another floor, Yuuri pulled Yūko into a spontaneous hug. It felt hopeful.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

On the Friday morning of Yuuri’s birthday he went in to work with Phichit and Leo as usual, having left Victor to work late on some papers he insisted he wanted finished so that he could spend Yuuri’s birthday without those at the back of his mind. Yuuri had spent the evening snuggled up with Vicchan and Makkachin on his own couch, wondering what secret plans Victor and his friends might be plotting. He hadn’t believed the ploy about those papers for one second. Yuuri had found his friends quite tight-lipped over the past days whenever he brought up his birthday, so the thought that Victor might have gotten together with them to plan a birthday party for him made him feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

As they parked in their usual spot outside the building, Victor was just arriving too.

Much to Yuuri’s surprise, Phichit opened the trunk and took out a small suitcase that seemed very familiar to Yuuri. His eyes widened as he watched Phichit hand the suitcase to Victor, saw the smile that passed between the two of them.

“Thank you, Phichit.” Victor gave him a quick hug.

“You’re so welcome.” Phichit patted Victor’s back.

Both he and Leo saw Yuuri off with hugs and well-wishes, which left Yuuri confused. Especially as Phichit called out a cheerful “Enjoy your weekend, you two!” accompanied by a meaningful eyebrow wriggle, before he headed inside to work.

Yuuri’s head whipped around to where Victor was currently putting the suitcase, Yuuri’s very own suitcase he had not packed, into the trunk of his car and closed it. Walking around the car he finally came to stand in front of Yuuri and pulled him in for a kiss.

“Good morning, my darling.” Victor smiled. “And happy birthday.”

He wrapped his arms around Yuuri for a moment and Yuuri felt himself melting into the hug, bringing his own arms around Victor’s neck, wrists crossed behind Victor’s head as they kissed.

“Good morning.” Yuuri pursed his lips. Crinkled his brow. “What’s all this?”

“Surprise date.” Victor grinned.

“Date? At seven in the morning?” Yuuri’s eyebrows shot up, though he couldn’t deny the acute rush of excitement that coursed through his entire body. He had been dying to be taken on Victor’s extravagant dates before he’d even known it was Victor cooking them up.

“What about work?”

“We’ve got the day off.” Victor kissed him again before he reached for Yuuri’s arms and lowered them gently from their embrace. “And we have to leave now.”

He walked around his car and opened the door on the passenger side for Yuuri, motioning for him to get in. Confused, but tempted to giggle with excitement, Yuuri walked over and got in the car. All the scenarios he’d played through in his mind (and might or might not have asked Makka about) had certainly not included Phichit packing a suitcase and Victor stopping him from going to work for going on a date instead.

“Where are we off to?” he asked as Victor pulled out of the parking space and into traffic.

“Surprise.” Victor kept his eyes on the road, but Yuuri saw him smiling. Looking out the window, he felt how the excited, bubbly feeling in his stomach rose when he realised they were going to the airport.

In the bustling airport hall he almost ran into Victor when the stopped to check one of the many announcement boards for departures. Victor looked up, and then at their boarding passes.

“This is us.” He nodded and started moving on.

Yuuri was still gaping at the words _Milano Malpensa_ on the destination board.

“We’re going to Milan?” he finally asked as he hurried after Victor, pulling his suitcase along.

Victor merely smiled back at him over his shoulder.

Once they were checked in and through security, they waited in the business lounge and Victor encouraged Yuuri to go wild on the breakfast buffet while he went over the files from last night one more time.

“You really worked late on those papers!” Yuuri exclaimed in astonishment.

“Yes, I did, Yuuri. What did you think I was doing?” Victor laughed.

“Never mind.” Yuuri looked at the glossy magazines on the table between them but he felt himself flush a little, so he thought it would be a good idea to move away from Victor for a bit and check out the food. Flying business class wasn’t something he was familiar with, so he was spoilt for choice and took some time until he had figured out all the options and finally returned to their table with a small tray that held his breakfast as well as coffee and a bagel for Victor.

Yuuri quietly ate French toast with fruit salad and a small chocolate pastry, enjoying the feeling that not talking around Victor never felt awkward. Nursing a cup of coffee, he watched Victor in the armchair opposite him, dressed almost as if for work in a grey suit and white shirt, but without a tie and the top two buttons of his shirt open. Victor was concentrating on the file in his lap, his eyes moving slowly across the page as he read, pen in hand to mark the occasional alteration.

“Victor?”

Victor hummed low in his throat without looking up from his paper, only the faint twist of his mouth into a small smile showing that he had heard Yuuri at all.

“Nothing,” Yuuri decided and drank a sip of coffee. “Everything is just fine.”

Victor still didn’t look up, but over his papers, his smile widened into a perfect heart-shape.

They were served champagne as soon as they were in their comfortable business class seats on the plane. Yuuri was glad he’d eaten something or he would have felt exceedingly nauseous now. They toasted his birthday and sealed it with a lingering kiss, and Yuuri’s cheeks were burning when he leaned back in his seat and asked Victor about what he had planned for the weekend.

Victor grinned and took a healthy sip from his glass. “First, I’m afraid I will have to do a _little_ bit of work and drop by Mickey’s office for these papers.”

Yuuri shot up in his seat suddenly, making a little champagne slosh over the brim of his glass.

“Please tell me you did _not_ declare my birthday trip as a business trip so we can fly at company expenses to deliver some papers you might as well send via email!” he told Victor sternly. “Because if you did, I’m going straight back home on the next flight out!”

“Yuuuuri!” Victor looked wounded, but his eyes sparked with mirth. “Like I would allow anyone else to pay for my very first date with you!”

“Wouldn’t put it past you,” Yuuri muttered, but he smiled as he leaned back in his seat.

Victor only laughed and took a sip of champagne. “After we’ve seen Mickey I thought we could walk around the city a little, maybe do a little shopping, find some places you haven’t seen yet.”

“I’d love to see the cathedral, actually,” Yuuri said.

Victor placed one finger against his lips, thinking. “Let’s try that then. We should be able to get tickets for tomorrow morning, before it gets too crowded. And we could go say Hello to Andrea this afternoon and browse a little through the new winter collection, if you like?”

Yuuri nodded. Victor smiled.

“And I’ll buy you a present, anything you like, my darling.”

“You already bought me a birthday present,” Yuuri reminded him. “The suitcase?”

“Ah, but that was…”

“Victor!”

“Yuuuuri! Can a man not spoil his boyfriend on his birthday? The first they spend together, too!”

“Stop pouting!” Yuuri leaned over and reached for the hand not holding the champagne glass. “I really don’t need you to buy me a present. This…” He indicated the plane, the champagne, this whole trip with a small motion of his head. “… is already the best present.”

Victor seemed to think about this for a moment. “We’ll see,” he finally decided, ignoring Yuuri’s frown.

“Anyway. Tonight, of course, I’m going to take you out to dinner. Not too late, because I know how much you like that area and will want to walk around and look at everything forever. I think the ice-cream place is open, so that’s dessert settled. It might be a bit too cold to sit in the grass though, unfortunately. Then, we’re going back to our hotel room, where I’m going to spear you repeatedly and mercilessly with my cock.”

Yuuri coughed up a mouthful of champagne. “That… sounds like my perfect birthday,” he croaked. And couldn’t quite stop his mouth from bursting into the biggest, giddiest smile ever.

“I know.” Victor beamed at him and squeezed his hand tight. “Have I told you that I love how much we’re able to make each other speechless?”

“That’s a bit ambitious coming from Mr Always-Have-To-Have-The-Final-Say, but, yes. I love that, too.”

They got a second glass of champagne and held hands on the armrest between them, Victor insisting on more birthday kisses because he claimed one could never have enough of those, while Yuuri started to laugh and shake his head time and again thinking about Victor’s very vivid briefing of all the things they were going to do.

Yuuri spent the rest of the journey in a small champagne-induced bliss, until the taxi from the airport pulled up in front of a familiar building and he sat up straight immediately.

“There _are_ other hotels in Milan, Victor!”

“Not for me.”

Yuuri didn’t stop shaking his head from the moment they stepped into the marble reception hall until they walked up to a familiar door and he watched Victor swipe the keycard through to open the door.

“You did _not_!” he exclaimed as he followed him inside the suite and automatically kicked off his shoes in the small entry before he closed the door and stepped into the living room.

Victor set down their suitcases and swung around. “As you can see, I did.”

“You’re crazy!” Yuuri walked up to him and brought his arms around his neck.

“Do you like it?” Victor hugged him back and leaned in close.

“I love it. I love _you_.” Yuuri smiled from one ear to the other. “It’s still too much though.”

Victor didn’t say anything, just held him for a long moment, enjoyed the feeling of them being close, and in love, and here, of all places.

There was a chilled bottle of champagne waiting for them on the table in the living room with a note from Chris, wishing Yuuri a happy birthday and the both of them a great time in Milan. Yuuri acknowledged it with a resigned sigh, though they decided to open it later because they didn’t want to stumble through the day drunk.

The mood changed the moment they stepped into the bedroom. Yuuri found the memories overwhelming. To think that he was back here, in the very room where Victor had tied his tie for him and there had been that moment he was still sure they had very narrowly escaped a kiss. He couldn’t stop thinking about it as he walked through the room, unzipping his suitcase and putting toiletries in the bathroom, hanging up his black tailored suit he saw Phichit had packed, no doubt having had clear instructions from Victor that Yuuri hadn’t had the slightest clue about when he’d gotten out of bed in the morning. It made his heart beat faster and his stomach heave with butterflies, and his mind swirl with memories he had of this room and even more so with those memories he did not have.

“I wanted to kiss you that day,” he said and turned around from the wardrobe where he’d just hung his suit jacket. It felt exhilarating to say it, words bubbling out of his mouth. “I wanted to kiss you and possibly throw you down on this very bed and kiss you more.”

Victor was stretched out on the bed, leaning on one arm. “You said that after the meeting in Milan, you had dreams about me. So I assumed they started here, in this very bed.”

“And decided to bring me back here to...” Yuuri blushed. “Make them a reality?”

“And _you_ call _me_ a sap.” Victor grinned. He reached out and pulled Yuuri down on the bed with him, rolling them both over until he had Yuuri pinned comfortably underneath his body.

“What time did you say is Mickey expecting us?” Yuuri asked, hating having to pull his tongue from Victor’s mouth for something as superfluous as talking.

“I didn’t.” Victor was breathing heavily against his mouth, his voice deep with lust. “Now, Yuuri. Why don’t you show me exactly what you did that night? And tell me what you thought about while doing it? What you imagined me doing to you?”

It was the strangest sensation, Yuuri thought, being naked on the bed not even half an hour after they checked in. Starting out like he had that night. But instead of ashamed he felt elated now, because Victor was here. And Victor was painting his body a delicate pink flush of arousal as he told him what a marvellous sight Yuuri presented him with.

“What a gift, my darling, even though it’s _your_ birthday and _you_ should be the one receiving all the gifts.”

Victor’s voice, such a luring temptation as he curled around Yuuri’s body while Yuuri called up that night and worked his cock and his nipples to most delicious pleasurable pain. Victor’s arms holding Yuuri as he moved uncontrollably. Victor’s eyes, not missing the smallest sensation Yuuri gave himself, gave Victor, too, as he was so close to him.

“Makes me think of the song you sent me…” Victor murmured close to his ear. “The one you said had you thinking about me. ‘ _Let yourself go, close your eyes… the world stops for you, here in my arms… Can you feel me?_ ’”

Yuuri had his eyes shut tight, giving himself over to all his other senses, so many pictures in his head.

“Can you feel me, Yuuri?” Victor’s voice, so thickly laced with arousal and emotion, pulled Yuuri under the surface of everything he knew, and he wanted to be on that other level forever, that deep, intense, raw level of understanding with Victor forever.

“Always!” he panted and threw himself deeper into Victor’s touch with everything he had.

Yuuri’s strokes and breaths became more erratic, his eyes stinging with emotional tears because it was too much, too much that wanted to break free, impending orgasm and the heat of Victor’s body, the catch in Victor’s voice as he quoted the words from the song to him, the very vivid memories of the shame he had felt that night thinking he had no right to this, and the overwhelming realisation that here and now, he had every right. Was allowed to feel everything, to cry out Victor’s name as he came hot and messy all over his hand and his stomach.

“Did you want me here with you, Yuuri? That night?” Victor whispered into his ear.

“Yes…” Yuuri forced out the word, his mind clouded with too many good feelings. Victor pushed two fingers between his lips.

“Doing what?” Victor moaned when Yuuri started to work his tongue around his fingers and sucked them deep into his mouth.

“Fucking me…” Yuuri ground out desperately when Victor withdrew his fingers. “Hard.”

Victor chuckled, while his wet fingers parted plush buttocks and stroked lazily between them.

Yuuri whimpered and pushed back eagerly, craving Victor’s touch. Victor teased him with slow circling movements and long strokes, carefully, not wanting to do too much without lube. He was rock hard, brushing between Yuuri’s butt cheeks and making Yuuri frantic.

“Don’t move. I’ll be right back.” He placed a kiss in the back of Yuuri’s neck and got up to fetch the lube and condoms from his suitcase. When he came back into the bedroom, Yuuri looked up at him from hooded eyes, the adorable pink blush of arousal spreading over his face and all the way down his chest, his lips wet and plump from kissing, his hand already working his cock back to hardness even though he had just come.

“Hurry, Vitya!” he said quietly, and Victor felt his heart plummet with the acute need to comply.

He was back behind Yuuri in an instant, curving lube-coated fingers inside tight heat and brushing that sweet spot that had Yuuri moaning out loud and rocking back against him, begging for more. It was fast and urgent, unexpected, Victor drawing bits and details from Yuuri and filled him with his cock instead. Yuuri sighed deeply at the first stroke of Victor’s cock inside him as if he was taking him home. He told him every filthy thought he’d ever had about him while Victor thrust deeper into him with each one. Victor’s arms came tight around Yuuri’s chest and they clung to each other, working Yuuri’s oversensitive nipples between both their hands, while Yuuri jerked himself off again, hurried and heated, until he came a second time and went weak and pliant in Victor’s tight grip, letting himself be used as Victor fucked him all the way to his own peak. Spent, they stayed like this for a while, holding tight as if losing even one bit of touch meant losing something they needed to function. Victor was murmuring quietly against Yuuri’s ear, instinctively finding all the right words Yuuri had wanted to hear all those months ago.

Eventually they moved, let go off each other reluctantly, wincing when limbs came to life again after being in the same tight grip for too long. They shared a shower, kissing under the hot spray until they were out of breath. When they finally headed out, more than an hour after they had meant to, their hands were clasped together, their faces all smiles.

Yuuri was surprised to find Michele pulling him into a hug instead of shaking his hand. He threw Victor a confused look over Michele’s shoulder, but Victor merely laughed while he shook his head very lightly. He looked happy to find one of his oldest friends greeting Yuuri with so much affection. Yuuri was even more surprised when Michele handed him an envelope and wished him a happy birthday.

“It’s just a little something,” Michele said as he watched Yuuri open the envelope. “But Sara told me you might like this.”

“I do!” Yuuri laughed when he took the tickets from the envelope and turned around to wave them at Victor. “Looks like this time tomorrow we’ll be walking around the roof of the Duomo.”

Victor grinned, standing near the window with the stunning view of the Duomo, hands buried in his pockets. “Perfect!”

While Victor and Michele went over the files Victor had brought, Yuuri found himself in the front room with Giulia drinking coffee. She fawned over him like a mother and handed him a small gift bag too as a birthday present. Peeking inside, Yuuri spotted a well-known and very expensive Italian men’s fragrance. She waved off his thanks with some of those typical Italian hand gestures, until he became quiet and just smiled, defeated.

It wasn’t long until Michele’s door opened again and he came out with Victor. Giulia fawned over Victor as well, insisting that he have some coffee while they made smalltalk.

“I saw it in the summer already,” Giulia remarked with a smile when Victor stood beside Yuuri and placed one hand casually in the small of his back and Yuuri leaned instinctively just the slightest bit into him. “There was something between the two of you. It wasn’t the right time then. But now it is.”

“Now, and then some,” Victor stated.

Yuuri blushed. Victor quickly brought his coffee cup to his mouth, but his eyes alone were smiling.

Michele chuckled, purple eyes flashing amusement and understanding. “Emil’s back in town tomorrow, so if you like and don’t have anything else planned…”

His expression clearly said _Other than shagging each other silly_.

“… perhaps we could catch up at _aperitivo_?”

“By all means!” Yuuri turned to Victor with sparkling eyes. “I’ve always wanted to try _aperitivo_!”

Victor laughed. “Anything you want, my darling.”

In the lift downstairs Yuuri held up the small gift bag to Victor. “How did Giulia know it’s my birthday?”

“Oh, birthdays are for Giulia what names are for me.” Victor grinned. “She knows them all and never forgets one.”

“Oh.” Yuuri peered into the gift bag again, the envelope with the Duomo tickets jutting out over the brim where he had stuck it in beside the perfume. He looked very timid, and felt very spoilt.

They had just got out of a taxi and were walking up to their flagship store when Yuuri’s phone rang with an incoming video call.

“My family,” he told Victor, and suddenly felt very shy. He hadn’t had a chance to tell them about Victor yet. While he was still thinking frantically about how he could possibly excuse himself, Victor rubbed one hand over his arm affectionately.

“I’ll just have a look around these shops over there. You take your call, my darling.”

He strolled off before Yuuri could say anything, not even give him a thankful glance. Yuuri picked up the phone quickly before they could hang up and he wouldn’t get to speak to them on his birthday. He knew it was evening in Japan already. The call connected and the faces of his parents, his sister and Minako filled the screen. Yuuri felt an acute bout of homesickness when he saw their faces and heard them talk all over each other in Japanese, wishing him a happy birthday and mentioning a parcel from home that was on the way to him. It really had been too long since he’d been home.

“What’s that in the background?” Minako asked suddenly. “Where are you?”

“Oh.” Yuuri smiled. “Milan.”

He let the camera capture the golden Crispino & Giacometti letters above the store in his back.

“Milan?” Four curious faces were looking at the camera. “Are you working? Or did you go on a trip for your birthday?”

Yuuri blushed. “It’s… a date.”

The typical Japanese “ _ehhhh_ ” and “ _honto_?” of surprise came from his phone, the question “ _dēto_?” asked by more than one voice.

“Who is this person who takes you all the way to Milan on a date for your birthday?” Minako wanted to know.

Yuuri cast a cautious glance around. Victor was paying him no attention, he was busy looking at the window display of a shop a little further down the street. Considering it was safe, Yuuri turned his phone so that the camera captured Victor, just for a moment, before he quickly focused it on his own face again.

“Isn’t that one of your bosses?” Yuuri blushed further. Trust Mari to recognise Victor right away.

“ _You’re dating your boss???”_ Mari yelled. “ _uso!_ ”

“Mari-neechan!” Yuuri hissed. “ _urusai_!”

Yuuri’s mother clapped her hands like an excited child and nudged her husband.

“ _sugoi ne_ , and it’s the handsome one too!” she said to her husband, who nodded before they beamed into the camera at Yuuri again.

“ _okaasan_!” Yuuri murmured, wondering just how it was that those closest to you always managed to embarrass you the most.

They finally let him go, not without his parents’ insisting that Victor talk to them the next time they called, and Mari asking to tell Victor she knew who he was now and would be watching him, and Minako wishing them a really, really nice time with much sake-induced telltale winking.

Andrea took one look at them and he knew.

“I was afraid the whole shop would burn down around us when you looked at each other in that changing room,” he laughed after he had greeted them with a hearty embrace.

“It was a bad time then, wasn’t it?” He placed one arm around Victor’s shoulder. Of course he knew that Victor had still been engaged at that time. “You look so much happier now. It makes me happy!” His other hand was placed over his heart, which didn’t even come as a surprise in a passionate, romantic Italian man.

Victor laughed, shaking his head almost a little embarrassed.

“So, how do you like your suits, Yuuri?” Andrea asked as they walked side by side through the store towards some exclusive new pieces that had just come in and he insisted on showing them.

“Oh…” Yuuri exchanged a look with Victor behind Andrea’s back. Saying that both suits had proven that they would live perfectly fine through wild monkey sex against doors was probably not what Andrea wanted to hear.

“They are wonderful,” Yuuri finally said. “I’ve never felt as good as I do wearing those suits.”

Victor coughed pointedly into his hand, pretending to be distracted by a display of ties.

Andrea looked back and forth between the two of them. “I am very happy to hear that,” he smirked.

They browsed a little though the latest collection, Yuuri getting all flustered when he particularly liked a light blue polo shirt and Andrea had it gift-wrapped and gave it to him as a birthday present.

They giggled over the underwear display and bought some more just for the heck of it, then picked some clothes that needed to be tried on. This time Victor did not stay outside in the armchair but poked his head behind the curtain all the time to see what Yuuri was trying on and giving his opinion.

For some reason they ended up snogging in the changing room when Yuuri was dressed again, until they heard Andrea clear his throat very loudly behind them and jumped apart. He was chuckling as he quickly drew the curtain because he had another customer with him. Victor sat down on the bench, laughing hysterically with his head leaning back against the wall, while Yuuri had flushed crimson with embarrassment.

_“mo! dame! … bakayaro! … yamette sore!”_ He glared at Victor.

His quiet ranting in Japanese made Victor laugh only harder.

“ _Bikutoru no baka!_ ”

Still agitated, Yuuri pulled back the curtain, stepped out of the changing room and headed for the check-out.

The moment they came up the escalator, Yuuri heaved a huge happy sigh. The piazza was less crowded than it had been in summer, but no less beautiful, and for a while Victor just watched Yuuri happily walking around, peering into shop windows and reacquainting himself with a favourite place.

“There are two empty seats under the solar tree,” Victor said and nodded in the direction of the tree-like construction. “Why don’t you secure them for us and I’ll get us some pre-dinner ice-cream?”

Yuuri’s eyes sparkled as he headed off towards the middle of the piazza.

They sat side by side, shoulders touching, as they ate ice-cream and watched people. A skating rink had been set up on the side of the piazza outside the ice-cream shop, and for a while they watched the people there, some cautiously trying to find their balance, others skating perfect rounds like they had never done anything else in their life.

Hands clasped tight together they slowly made their way to the restaurant, not without spending enough time admiring the Bosco Verticale. They asked someone to take their picture together like they had back in the summer, vowing there and then that they would first get the same picture taken here every season, and most definitely every year.

The restaurant was crowded as usual, and they were seated at another small table right in the middle of everything. It was white truffle season and they ordered pasta dishes with truffles and drank local white wine. Their legs constantly touched in the small space under the table, but Victor also made a point of reaching across the table for Yuuri’s hand as much as he could, drawing slow circles over the back of his hand with his thumb that had Yuuri pausing with his glass halfway to his mouth and swallowing hard.

“Are you okay?” he asked at one point. “You seem so… pensive.”

Victor smiled at him across the table. “Just trying to think of everything.”

“Everything what?” Yuuri frowned.

Victor shook his head and just reached for his wine instead of giving an answer.

It was cold when they made their way back to the piazza. There were no people sitting in the grass at this time of year, although some were braving the cold and sitting in the wooden deck chairs in between what had been a bed of blooming wild flowers in summer. Dog were still running around the small dog park, their owners watching from outside over the low fence.

“Yuuri.”

Yuuri looked up from a particularly cute _shiba_ at the sound of Victor’s voice.

Victor was waving his phone at him. A Latin beat that sounded familiar was coming from it. “Could I have this dance?”

Yuuri began to laugh out loud when he recognised ‘La Cintura’.

“You’re crazy!” he exclaimed but took Victor’s outstretched hand and let himself be pulled into a dance.

They danced on the grass, out of the way of the passersby who looked at them with curiosity, some laughing, some stopping to stare, some openly smitten. At the end of the song they found that there were still people looking at them, now clapping. Laughing, they spontaneously took a small bow. Yuuri blushed, but exclaimed it hadn’t been too bad for someone whose only move was Disco Fox. Victor laughed.

“Yuuri.”

The people around them dispersed and Victor took hold of one of Yuuri’s hands.

“I wanted to come back here and retrace our steps… and make it right this time. You know? Fill in all the blanks that were left last time. And I’ll be selfish and say I wanted to do everything I wasn’t able to do back then. Hold your hand in the restaurant. Dance with you for all the world to see. So if there are more dreams you dreamed in that bed, or in that piazza, or any places you still want to go… let’s make that happen.”

“You sap.” Yuuri laughed, but he felt like crying and squeezed Victor’s hand tight. “You terrible, romantic sap!”

“Yuuri.” Victor slipped his phone into the pocket of his coat.

“What?”

Victor almost flung himself at him and held him in a very tight hug, holding him close with his hands slowly rubbing up and down Yuuri’s back for long minutes on end.

“What was that for?” Yuuri asked gently when they finally pulled apart.

Victor blushed. “Just a hug I meant to give you back then, when you told me about that crush you had in high school and how bad he made you feel.”

“You remember everything!” Yuuri exclaimed, laughing and crying at the same time. “How do you always remember everything???”

He called after him as Victor already walked on, pausing to look back at him over one shoulder with an enigmatic smile. Yuuri hurried to catch up with him, slipping his hand into Victor’s when he reached him.

They got ice-cream from GROM and stood beside the shop while eating it. The ice rink was still open, well lit at night while people of all ages skated and chatted and laughed and Italo pop played loudly from the speakers.

“Have you ever tried ice skating?” Victor asked when he came back from throwing away their empty ice-cream cups in a nearby trash can.

Yuuri shook his head. His eyes were full of familiar stars. “You?”

“No.” They looked at each other for a long moment. Then burst into very similar determined smiles.

Just a short time later they were clinging onto the rails, both in rented skating boots, trying to find a hold on the slippery surface and most of all trying to stop laughing. Victor found his feet first. Some teenaged girls were giving them instructions in accented English. Trying to keep his feet steady, Victor managed to stay upright and glide the first small distance. Yuuri’s eyes narrowed. He’d be damned if he didn’t manage this.

They were like newly hatched penguins at first but eventually found their balance, got a hang of how to stretch their legs and take one stride after the other. Soon they were just two more people skating rounds around the rink, holding hands and laughing while the cold night air and wind turned their cheeks red.

“What the… Victor!” Yuuri called out when Victor picked up speed and skated ahead of him, looking graceful and elegant in his winter coat, silver hair flying about his head. He tried to turn and it looked a little wobbly but he actually managed to stop and turn without falling onto his arse. Yuuri scrunched his face, feeling challenged.

“Is there anything you _can’t_ do?!” Yuuri asked, shaking his head.

Victor glided up to him and stopped much more gracefully than he should have been able to in Yuuri’s opinion.

“Those diagram things.” He winked.

“Bar charts,” Yuuri corrected and took the hand Victor held out to him.

They turned some more rounds around the rink, racing each other until they stopped themselves at the rail and held on to it laughing, wondering when they had last had so much.

“Yuuri!” Victor’s head suddenly whipped up.

Yuuri frowned for a moment, and then he heard the music, the cheerful Italo pop song currently coming from the speakers.

They laughed, until their eyes met and the smiles froze slowly on their faces as they moved closer, right in the middle of Milan on a November evening, Yuuri’s birthday, the rail of an ice rink for support by their sides as Victor glided closer on his skates until he was close enough to cup Yuuri’s face with both hands and pull him into a kiss while words that had already brought their world down once before sounded from the loudspeakers.

_Se cade il mondo, sarà perché ti amo._

The world had certainly come tumbling down around them for good measure over the past few months. Because they loved each other.

That night Yuuri found himself bent in half at the lower end of the bed, his knees on the bed but his feet pointing down over the edge. He was face down in the sheets, using them to muffle the sounds he made, while his arse was in the air and he gripped his own shins with both hands.

Yuuri keened into the sheets, feeling his face boiling hot and knowing it was bright red. He shifted his weight to his forehead so he would be able to raise his mouth from the bed and breathe, leaving a wet patch from what he knew was drooling because he couldn’t stop thinking about what a sight he must make. He knew his arse would be red from being kneaded well and a slap or two he had provoked out of Victor. He knew he was dripping with lube, worked open by patient long fingers, twitching with anticipation, and his breath caught in his throat like his heart beat from upside down when he heard the familiar ripping of foil, and then the slick moist sound of lube being spread over rubber-coated hardness, and then muted footsteps on the carpet. He felt Victor more than he could hear him, but he moaned quietly into the sheets when suddenly Victor was there, standing by the edge of the bed, the insides of Victor’s legs touching on the outside of Yuuri’s ankles, the thick head of his cock teasing deliciously at his hole. Yuuri made a greedy sound that was completely swallowed by the sheets under his face. His position left him very little room to move, and he had to muster all his concentration to not topple over.

“You look like sin, my darling, I don’t know how long I’m going to last.”

Victor’s voice was like dark velvet, caressing Yuuri’s skin like the smoothest touch. Victor’s hands came around his hips now, and Yuuri exhaled with gratitude at the support. He turned his face sideways on the bed with great effort.

“Please!” He breathed out the word with his eyes closed, helpless with want, with need. “Please, Vitya, take me!”

Victor muttered something incomprehensible that sounded suspiciously like defeat and gripped Yuuri’s hips tighter as he slowly inched his way inside. He groaned out loud because Yuuri felt so good around him.

“Fuck, you’re so tight like this!” Victor hissed through his teeth. “You feel amazing.”

He inched his legs just the smallest bit closer together and Yuuri’s feet with them, and Yuuri let out a long noise that was something between a moan and a sob. This was the gift, he thought, reminded of Victor’s words from earlier that day. Being able to let himself go like this, to show himself like this and ask for what he wanted, create a safe space with another person who met him where he was, knowing that this was just between them, all this, trust, lust, need, greed – _this_ was the gift. The sound of skin slapping into skin with every thrust of Victor’s inside his body, every single stroke so long that he pulled almost all the way out, the angle perfect for him to drive in deep and make Yuuri scream into the sheets. Yuuri shifted his to turn his face sideways, desperate for air. He was gasping, loud, mouth wide open and contorted with pleasure, eyes squeezed in bliss from all the sensations, especially from being so completely at the mercy of Victor’s hands and Victor’s cock and the pace Victor set with his hips, snapping forward fast and feverish while low groans of exertion fell from his mouth.

Victor slowed down, driving in and out at a delicious pace that had Yuuri whimpering softly because it felt so good. He felt the sounds from Victor’s mouth tumbling down on him, suddenly so soft and loving, sighs and murmurs of Yuuri’s name, moans and praise, and silly, breathless declarations of love that rolled over Yuuri like Victor rolled his hips into him.

Yuuri felt in pain from pleasure, wanting to come but unable to touch his cock with his hands trapped under his legs. He started begging, his voice already bordering on hoarse, a needy high-pitched edge to it as he requested more from Victor, demanded everything, and Victor started thrusting into him fast and without inhibition again. He could feel his cock, even in this position, quivering angrily against his stomach. His neck muscles protested too much under the strain when he tried to shift the weight of his head on the bed and bring it down a little more to his chest to be able to look up at his own body. Frustrated, he brought his face back down on the bed again, turned it the other way to ease the tension in his neck. He was looking at the window this way, saw the city lights as faint bright spots of colour through the thin white curtains and wished they had thought of pulling them open. He might have been able to see their reflection in the window pane, and all the world might have seen him like this, on his knees and fucked face down into the bed by this gorgeous man he loved, and it was this thought that made his toes curls and his balls tighten. He felt himself come over his stomach, sticky heat sliding towards his chest in the bent over position he was. Victor’s low moans rolled over him like another new wave of pleasure.

“Come for me, Vitya, fill me up!” Yuuri ground out. The thought of a time in the future when their relationship would be established enough for them not to need condoms anymore almost made his cock swell up again.

Victor positively shouted Yuuri’s name when he came, chasing even the last bit of bliss and not pulling out until he absolutely had to. He wiped himself down carelessly with some tissues and got on the bed, where Yuuri had crawled forward and was lying down on his stomach now, feet still hanging over the edge. Victor slid up close and pulled him into a tight embrace, arms coming around each other, legs entangling like their limbs were striving for the other’s instinctively.

“Good birthday?” Victor asked and smiled against Yuuri’s mouth.

“Best birthday! Thank you!” Yuuri sighed and kissed him deeply, reluctant to let him go.

The next morning Victor treated Yuuri to champagne breakfast in the top floor restaurant of the Rinascente department store. Looking over to where they could already see people walking around on the roof of the Duomo made Yuuri excited like a child at his birthday party. They spent a long time in the Duomo, soaking up the silence and the sheer power the inside of world famous cathedrals always exercises. They went down to the crypt, and in the end got in the queue for the small lift up to the roof. They walked hand in hand across the Duomo roof for a long time.The cold November wind whipped their hair into a catastrophe that had them laughing whenever they looked at each other. Yuuri leaned his arms on a fenced wall and Victor cuddled up close behind him, arms around Yuuri’s waist and chin on Yuuri’s shoulder as they looked out over Milan until it got too cold and they went back to another queue to go back down and warm up in the back of a taxi that took them back to Piazza Gae Aulenti because Yuuri still hadn’t looked his fill of his favourite place.

The place where Michele had booked a table for _aperitivo_ was just a short walk away, and Yuuri gaped when he found himself by a large window looking out at an actual swimming pool. It was too cold to sit outside at one of the tables surrounding the pool, though they took their drinks outside for a bit to just enjoy the view, Yuuri sighing happily when he saw his beloved Porta Nuova skyscrapers rising close by. Back inside they ordered another round of cocktails and finger food.

“Can you actually swim in the pool?” Yuuri asked Michele and popped another olive into his mouth.

It was Emil who answered. “Oh, absolutely. I’ve spent many a happy summer’s day here in one of those deckchairs waiting for Mickey to finish work.”

“Sending me topless pics and shots of low-riding bathing shorts while I was in the middle of a meeting,” Michele commented drily before he sipped from his cocktail. “Giulia had a lot of fun watching my phone for me during those meetings.”

Emil winked at Victor and Yuuri across the table, one arm slung over the back of the leather couch he was sharing with Michele. Yuuri laughed and leaned back into the arm Victor had wound loosely around his waist, loving how Victor’s chin was resting on his shoulder and he could hear Victor’s quiet laugh.

They talked easily, debating Christmas plans and the pros and cons of going skiing around New Year. Emil said his parents were already excited to come over to Milan for Christmas and meet the whole Crispino family, even if it was still almost a month away. Michele mentioned that he had gifted Chris with a spa weekend in some Swiss Hotel this very weekend and that he hoped it would help him to relax and heal a little. They talked some more about Chris, sharing worries and hopes, and Yuuri found Emil was listening just as quietly and attentively as he was. Emil had brought Yuuri a birthday present too - a collection of Czech beer as a reminiscence of their dancing together with a bootle of cold beer in their hand at the summer party.

“This was nice,” Yuuri said when they had hugged Michele and Emil goodbye and were in the back of a taxi back to their hotel, in that happy state of light inebriation.

Victor pulled him close with one arm around his shoulder and breathed a kiss on his temple.

Instead of going out for dinner they stayed in their suite and called room service. They tried out the spa bath tub in their bathroom and decided that Victor’s was much nicer, for the changing lights alone. They ate, barely dressed, on the couch in their living room and finally opened Chris’ champagne. Then Yuuri spent the greater part of the night in Victor’s lap, riding him until he saw stars, kissing him the whole time like he wanted to draw every last breath from him and Victor gave it gladly.

They nearly missed check-out time on Sunday because Victor enjoyed being pinned down on the bed by Yuuri a little too much and refused to get up until he hadn’t had every last bit Yuuri was able to give.

“Your place or mine?” Victor asked when they were back in his car and had fastened their seatbelts, looking at each other for a moment in the airport parking lot.

“Mine,” Yuuri decided. Thinking of the souvenirs in his suitcase, he grinned. “The kids are there.”

“Perfect.” Victor beamed and started the engine to drive them home.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Yuuri woke up late. As he should on a Sunday, he found, especially in winter, when it was much too cosy under his blankets to face the world. It would have been far cosier if he hadn’t woken up alone though. Yawning, he grabbed his phone from the bedside table and squinted at the screen, then winced. Almost noon. No wonder he was alone in bed. They had strolled across the Christmas market until late last night, with his whole gang and Mila and Sara and Yura, and that last _Glühwein_ had probably been one too many. He reached for his glasses and swung his legs out of bed. It was chilly in the room, the window tilted overnight even in winter, but then he didn’t get to wear pyjamas much anymore these days either. Something smelt really good on the other side of the bedroom door, a much loved aroma that would always find him, seeping even through the smallest spaces.

He found Victor and Yura sitting at the kitchen table when he finally emerged, dressed and looking somewhat presentable, though his hair was still sticking up all over the place. They had a lot of small rolled out plates of dough between them on the table and a bowl of what reminded him a little of gyoza filling but without the typical ginger and garlic aroma. Watching them for a moment from the small hallway he caught himself smiling. It looked so homely, the way they went through what seemed well-practised motions. Each small circle of dough was filled with a bit of spiced minced meat, folded into a half moon, the edges pinched together and the corners connected. 

“You do know there are moulds for this, right?” Yura was just saying to Victor. “We don’t need to do this by hand.”

“You mean like the one you gave Lilia for her birthday and which had her in a foul mood for a week because she felt so insulted?” Victor chuckled. “Besides, the hand-made ones look so much nicer.”

His head shot up and a heart-shaped smile took over his face.

“Good morning, my darling!” Victor said as Yuuri walked into the kitchen.

“High time you showed your face, Katsudon!” Yura said.

Yuuri leaned down to wrap both arms around Victor, and Victor tilted his head up for a kiss.

“Gross,” Yura remarked without looking up from the _pelmeni_ he was currently forming.

“One day, Yura, you will fall in love and find you cannot go long without kissing and touching the person you love, and it will be the happiest you’ll ever feel in your life,” Victor said good-humouredly.

“Yeah, but I’ll never be gross.” Green eyes flashed across the table determinedly.

“You keep telling yourself that,” Yuuri commented with a smirk and went to make some coffee, missing the exasperated glare Yura shot at his turned back.

Yuuri’s eyes widened at the sight of what he instinctively knew where deep-fried slices of pork, currently resting on kitchen paper that drew extra oil from them.

“ _tonkatsu_!” he exclaimed, coffee momentarily forgotten. “I knew I could smell it!”

“Keep your paws off, Katsudon, they’re mine!”

“ _All_ of them?” Yuuri leaned down to peer at the pile of at least ten pieces of meat, deep-fried until the batter had turned into a crispy, golden brown crust. He moved back and forth, up and down as he breathed in the mouth-watering smell, the image of a _tonkatsu_ sandwich suddenly very, very vivid before his inner eye.

“Yes, all of them, and I’ll know if you ate any when you help me later!”

“Help you with what?” Yuuri finally dragged himself away from the meat and made his way to the coffee machine.

“With the _katsudon_ , of course.” Yura looked up. “I never get the egg quite as right as you do.”

“We’re making _katsudon_?” Yuuri swung round, the coffee machine’s glass pot in his hands. “On _Russian_ night?”

“We’re making _katsudon_ _pirozhki_ ,” Yura announced. He sat up straight in his chair and suddenly looked very proud. “It’s my own invention. Okay, my grandpa helped a little, over the phone and in try-outs. I’ve been perfecting it for months, and tonight you’re all finally going to get to taste them.”

Yuuri turned to look at Victor, who shrugged, but smiled in a way that could not be mistaken for anything else but severe pride of Yura.

And Yuuri smiled too, filling the glass pot with water and making coffee, leaning back against the counter while he waited until he was able to pour himself a cup. He offered some to Victor and Yura but they declined and pointed at the tea glasses in front of them. They also declined his help, so he took his coffee out into the living room where he was just about able to place it safely on the table before he was ran over by two overeager poodles.

In the evening everyone was sitting in the living room moaning and groaning about having eaten too much of the rich Russian food. They were full of _pelmeni_ with sour cream, and _solyanka_ , and _syrniki_ with cream and jam and honey. However, Yura’s _katsudon_ _pirozhki_ took the cake. Nobody had been able to get enough of those. It didn’t stop anyone from digging into the assortment of confectionery Mila had brought courtesy of Yakov though and set out on the coffee table in the living room, all kinds of candy and sweetest, airy _pastila_. Mila had even brought a samovar that they had set up in the living room, and the bitterness of black tea went exceeding well with the very sweet desserts.

Phichit was alone in the kitchen, looking thoughtful as he typed a message on his phone when Victor came in.

“Are you okay, Phichit?” he asked as he opened the fridge looking for cold drinks.

“Yeah.” Phichit pressed the _Send_ button and slipped his phone back into his back pocket. “I just had to think of someone who’s… not surrounded by a bunch of friends tonight.”

His eyes widened as if he realised he had said more than he had wanted to.

Victor’s head appeared over the fridge door. “Strangely enough…” he mused. “So have I.”

Phichit hurried from the kitchen, looking exceedingly flustered all of a sudden.

From the living room, Yuuri had been watching the exchange, his frown following Phichit across the room for the rest of the evening.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“So what will the seating arrangements be tonight?” Phichit asked the following Friday evening.

Yuuri looked up, spoon still in his mouth from sampling chicken korma.

“Same as usual, why?” he said once he had taken the spoon from his mouth.

“You don’t want the sofa corner, Yuuri?” Guang Hong grinned at him from where he was chopping tomatoes at the kitchen table.

“Yuuri already either _had_ the sofa corner or _was had_ in the sofa corner, haven’t you, Katsu-damn?”

“Phichit!!!”

If Yuuri had thought the interrogation was finished by the time Victor arrived he had another think coming. They had talked about this in advance, neither he and Victor nor Guang Hong and Leo wanting to give Phichit the feeling that he was in any way the odd one out, now that the was the only single among them.

“But won’t you want to cuddle?” Phichit kept insisting as he put out the usual sauces he’d made in the living room, then turned towards Victor again. “We’re watching an Indian Romeo and Juliet, with lots of gory violence. You _will_ want to cuddle.” He wriggled his eyebrows.

“Phichit, we are well capable of watching a movie without touching all the time!” Victor exclaimed.

“Speak for yourself,” Yuuri muttered.

“Yuuri! I’m trying to make a good impression on your friends here!”

Phichit laughed. “We’ve heard the stories, Nikiforov.That ship has sailed.”

“Yuuuuri!” Victor turned on Yuuri with a pout. Yuuri rolled his eyes, but he was snorting with laughter.

Soon they were seated in their usual spots, with the sole difference that Victor had moved his armchair all the way up to the sofa so that he and Yuuri were able to hold hands and lean close together while watching the movie.

Phichit started the movie, and Yuuri leaned closer to Victor.

“And you really haven’t watched this movie?” He asked, frowning. Victor shook his head.

Their eyes were on the screen, where the name of the production company showed as _Eros International_.

“It’s not porn, is it?” Victor gaped. Yuuri gave him a playful slap.

_[The film is a Romeo and Juliet type of story about two warring families. Ram, the son of one of the families, is referred to by his family as being interested in poetry and love rather than the family business of producing ammunition and keeping up the feud with the Sanera family. The first shot of Ram shows him lying on a motorbike that he is steering with his foot while he is looking bored at his phone and waving into the crowd. A song starts and Ram, without sunglasses now, faces the camera, runs one hand through his hair - and smiles.]_

“Holy shit!” Victor shot forward in his seat, staring at the TV, eyes and mouth wide open.

“Oi!” Yuuri slapped his arm.

Leo, Phichit and Guang Hong burst out laughing.

“Yuuuuri!” Victor laughed, amused. “Are you jealous?”

“Yeah, but probably not in the way you think, Victor.” Phichit caught the sofa cushion Yuuri threw at him.

_[On screen, Ram peels himself very slowly and seductively out of his shirt. He has a stunning body.]_

Victor let out a disbelieving laugh. He dodged another slap from Yuuri just in time.

“What the hell…” Victor muttered, staring at the TV screen.

“Victor, you are very probably the only person in this room who has not wanked over this song yet.”

“PHICHIT!!!” Leo, Guang Hong and Yuuri yelled at the same time.

“Wow,” Victor said at the end of the song as Ram smiled.

There was nothing anyone could have added to that.

_[Ram is a bit of a vagabond who sells porn movies in his own shop and persuades his friends to sneak in to the Holi celebrations of the family they have a feud with. Of course, he falls head over heels in love with the rival’s daughter, and she with him.]_

“She kissed him!” Victor exclaimed. “Is that allowed in Bollywood?!”

“It is now,” Phichit said. “They’ve opened up a little in that respect.”

“What does her boyfriend have to say about her kissing other men on screen!”

Victor frowned when everyone around him snickered.

_[The typical Romeo and Juliet plot unfolds. Ram shoots Leela’s only brother after he shot Ram’s. Ram and Leela elope but they keep fighting about their families. The fight ends with Leela suggesting they get married on the spot. In the room they have chosen as their hide-out, Ram smokes a cigarette. He is topless, wearing nothing but a_ dhoti _. Leela lights incense in a clay pot and starts a sensual dance with it in her hand, never tilting the pot once while she moves, dancing some kind of mating dance for Ram.]_

“Beautiful!” Victor muttered. “How did I miss out on this movie? Look at her Yuuri, our girl is beautiful!”

"Our _what_!” Yuuri shook his head but he couldn’t quite hold back a smile.

_[Ram and Leela celebrate their secret marriage, kneeling on the bed. Ram puts the red_ sindur _on the parting of Leela’s hair, the mark of a married woman. He rises on his knees, pulling Leela into a passionate kiss and they cling to each other, basically making out.]_

“What the fuck!” Victor yelled. “Are you sure we’re still watching Bollywood??? Eros and not porn my ass!”

_[Ram is lured away by his friends, who insist on celebrating his marriage with him. Leela is left behind in the room, alone and waiting for him. Ram gets drunk and stoned with his friends.]_

“Dumbass!” Guang Hong remarked. It came straight from the heart.

_[The next morning, Leela is forcibly dragged back to her family by her cousin. Ram is hailed by his clan for ruining their enemies’ daughter’s reputation and made their new chief. Ram is heartbroken, over losing Leela, and over having to learn that it was his friends who betrayed them to Leela’s family.]_

“Have I ever told you guys how happy and grateful I am that you would never do anything like this to me?” Phichit asked, turning his head to look around the others.

“Depends on who you end up with, Peach.” Guang Hong winked.

“He’s kidding!” Yuuri cut in quickly. “We would never betray any one of us!”

Leo reached down and rustled Phichit’s hair affectionately.

Victor watched them in silence, a wide smile on his face.

_[The second half of the movie shows Ram and Leela caught up in their family feud. Both of them are forced to become heads of the family and keep up the tradition and the quarrels. Circumstances pressure them to cause the other’s family members to die. Deciding that they cannot live like this, they want to die together. They agree that their lives only belong to each other, not to the mob who’s roaming the streets out to kill them. They regret that they never made love. Ram says that he’s never done it with his only love. Leela says that she’s never done it at all.]_

“How they are they both so beautiful?” Victor said. He sounded teary.

Yuuri passed him the tissues in silence and wound his arm around Victor’s, leaning against it.

_[Unbeknownst to them, their families make peace and agree to their marriage. Ram and Leela stand on her balcony, crying as they point guns at each other. They don’t open the door to Leela’s sister-in-law, not knowing she comes with good news, thinking she’s coming to get them to get killed. None of them dares to shoot first. They lower their guns and start kissing passionately, tears running down their faces. Two gunshots sound through the night like one. Two pistols are seen in a puddle of blood. Ram and Leela fall down into the water below the balcony. Both of them have serene, blissful expressions on their faces.]_

Tissues were passed from one to the other.

“So…” Yuuri looked at Victor quite seriously once the snivels had stopped and the end credits rolled. “What do you think of the actor?”

“Why, do you want to invite him over for a threesome, Yuuri? Because I totally wouldn’t mind. He’s _very_ handsome.”

Yuuri rose in his seat and leaned over until he could bring his face close to Victor’s. His gaze was solemn, his whole posture a challenge. “You say that like you could take on the both of us.”

Phichit’s head swung round. “Please let me film it if this ever happens!” He almost whimpered with need. “That would be the hottest gay porn threesome ever!”

Yuuri gave Victor a funny look that made the back of Victor’s neck tingle and a blush rise to his cheeks. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, Peach, but I think you may be right,” he muttered under his breath.

Victor leaned in closer until his voice was a low purr in Yuuri’s ear. “You’re looking at me like you think I would be the one sandwiched between the two of you, my darling.”

Yuuri mirrored the action, murmuring into Victor’s ear. “Because you _would_ be, Vitya, and you know it, and you know you’d love every single moment of it.”

Yuuri leaned back in the sofa corner, looking perfectly smug. Victor was still staring at him, mouth open.

Phichit rose from the floor to start carrying leftover food to the kitchen but Yuuri was still waiting for Victor’s answer, Guang Hong and Leo looking on with interest.

“The actor, Victor. What did you think of him? Other than that he’s hot?”

“He’s…” Victor cocked his head. “He had amazing chemistry with her. I thought she had chemistry with that other actor, but this is insane! So. I approve of him very much.”

“Good,” Yuuri grinned like the cat that got the cream. “He’s The Boyfriend.”

“Not anymore,” Phichit yelled from the kitchen.

“Right. He’s The Husband.”

“Well, that explains a lot,” Victor remarked and started laughing. Leaning over to Yuuri, he murmured, “Sadly, that also means that our hot threesome is never going to happen. Unless she likes to watch.”

He rose from the armchair and started helping to tidy up the coffee table, leaving Yuuri sitting speechless and wide-eyed in the sofa corner.

Later, when they had seen everyone off at the door, Yuuri turned around to Victor, who had wrapped his arms around him from behind.

“This is different, isn’t it?” Victor smiled.

“Not seeing you off by the door?” Yuuri brought his arms together behind Victor’s head.

Victor nodded.

Yuuri looked past him at the living room corner, where Makka was already dozing with Vicchan cuddled up to her like seeking the protection of a big sister.

“This is perfect,” Yuuri decided when he looked back at Victor. “Couldn’t be better.”

“Oh, I think it could.”

Yuuri’s raised one eyebrow.

Victor leaned down for a kiss. “Take me to bed, my darling.”

It was possible that the word “Mine!” resounded a lot through Yuuri’s bedroom that night as he had Victor on his hands and knees and rocked into him slow and deep, holding him steady by his hips to stop him from pushing back into him like he clearly wanted. It took Yuuri all his concentration to maintain the slow pace, swatting Victor’s hand away from his cock whenever he wanted to touch himself.

“Stop that, Vitya,” he murmured, “or I won’t let you come at all!”

He kept up the languid pace until he saw Victor lowering his head in defeat. Only then did Yuuri pull out until only the tip of his cock remained poised. He stayed like this for a moment, biting his lower lip because he wanted to slam right back in so badly, but he wanted to hear Victor first.

“Yuuri… fuck me, please…” Victor sounded desperate. He gulped. “Make me yours.”

Damn that man, Yuuri thought and rammed his cock back inside, making Victor cry out. He fucked him deep and relentless, loved being engulfed by this greedy tight heat, loved the sounds Victor made, loved that he was his, that they were each other’s.

“Yuuri, please can I touch myself?” Victor asked breathlessly.

“Wait.” Yuuri stilled and pulled out very slowly, ignoring Victor’s protest. “Turn over. I want to see you.”

Victor had this infuriating grin on his face when he was on his back and Yuuri settled between his spread legs. He pushed straight back in, hearing Victor exhale audibly when he filled him.

“This is perfect,” Victor murmured. “You’re perfect inside me, Yuuri.”

“And don’t you forget it!” Yuuri replied and drove faster in and out. “Now touch yourself for me!”

He angled his thrusts, made sure to brush Victor’s prostate with every stroke, unable to hide a smile when he made him moan. He watched those hands he loved so much work rosy nipples hard into angry red buds, watched those long slender fingers grip his leaking cock and stroke himself off with impatient moves, and he timed his thrusts with them, heightening all the sensations for Victor as much as he possibly could. They came together and Yuuri fucked them through it, hating to pull out and not be inside Victor anymore as much as Victor hated it, judging from his pout. It made Yuuri smile. He bunched up the tissues he had used to wipe them off quickly and threw them out of the bed, grabbed the blanket and yanked it over the both of them as he let himself be pulled into Victor’s arms.

“Mhmmm, this is nice.” Victor buried his face close in the crook of Yuuri’s neck as he cuddled up close.

Yuuri smiled against his temple and placed a kiss right there, arms wrapped tight around Victor.

“Love you,” Victor murmured sleepily. “Goodnight, my darling.”

“Goodnight, Vitya.” Yuuri suddenly felt his heart in his mouth. “ _aishiteru_.”

Under the blanket and in his arms, he felt Victor still, then hold him even closer.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Vicchan bolted off the moment they passed the park gates. Yuuri followed a little more slowly, trying to catch his breath after their run. It probably hadn’t been the best idea, after way too little sleep and a late night of Monster Hunter with his friends. But he had two good reasons to drag himself out of bed so early on a Sunday morning, and they were already waiting by their usual bench, greeting Vicchan, some more enthusiastically than others.

“You look terrible,” Yuuri said as he walked up and Victor took off his sunglasses.

Victor winced. “Chris thrashed me at pool and got me drunk.”

“Not in that order, I dare say.” Yuuri crossed the remaining distance between them and wrapped his arms around him.

“Hi.” Victor smiled a tired smile and hugged him back, then brought one hand up to Yuuri’s face.

“Hi.” Yuuri grinned. “You know what they say. Unlucky at cards, lucky in love or something?”

“ _So_ lucky!” Victor bent his head for a kiss and they stayed like this for a long time, eager to rediscover each other’s taste as if one night apart had wiped it away.

They sat on their bench, always touching one way or another, as they watched the dogs play while they had the coffee and the muffins that Victor had brought from the usual café. When all four of them got tired and cold, Victor rose from the bench and held his hand out to Yuuri.

“Let’s go home,” he said softly. Yuuri smiled and took his hand.

“Okay, are you ready?” Victor cleared his throat dramatically.

Yuuri snorted and cuddled up closer to him under the wad of blankets. They were probably crazy, sitting in the beach chair on Victor’s balcony at this time of year, and they would go back inside in a moment, as soon as the mulled wine they were warming their hands on was drunk.

“I don’t believe you found ten,” Yuuri said. “You’re probably cheating on some of them.”

“I would never!” Victor feigned shocked.

“Let’s hear it then.” Yuuri took a sip from his mulled wine.

“Okay.” Victor worked a sheet of paper out from under the blanket where he’d been hiding his hand from the cold December air. “‘10 Things I Hate About Your Sweater.’ Presented on the occasion of you wearing this atrocious thing in my home.”

Yuuri tried to reign in the laughter. He placed his empty mug on the side table and quickly hid his hand under the blankets again, pulling them higher around the two of them.

“One: it’s scratchy.”

Yuuri shook his head.

“Two: the colours are ridiculous.”

Victor rose his eyebrows, daring Yuuri to argue. Yuuri didn’t.

“Three: it hangs off you like a potato sack and covers all the goods.”

A faint blush appeared on Yuuri’s cheeks.

“Four: it’s too long. You can sit on sit on it and I cannot get my hands underneath to touch you.”

“Vikutoruuu…” Yuuri breathed. Victor smiled and looked back at his list.

“Five, six and seven: it’s ugly.”

“I _knew_ you were cheating!”

“I am not cheating, Yuuri, I am bringing across a valid point.”

Yuuri nudged him under the blanket, unwilling to get his hand out into the cold.

“Eight: it’s _very_ ugly. See, that’s different.”

“Of course it is.” Yuuri rolled his eyes.

“Nine: it’s hideously ugly.”

Yuuri snorted.

“Ten.”

Victor paused and looked at Yuuri. “It’s not permanently draped over the back of my couch.”

Yuuri swallowed hard. He held his gaze for a long moment. “There is exactly one good reason on your list. That’s more than I was expecting.”

“Yuuuuri!” Victor pouted. “So mean.”

Under the blanket, Yuuri searched for Victor’s hand and slid closer even though they were already as close as they possibly could be. Over the blanket, he kissed the pout from Victor’s lips.

“I think your list is one the most ridiculous things you have come up with yet.”

“It matches your sweater then.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“Your nose is very cold, let’s go inside.”

“Okay.”

They fought their way out of the pile of blankets, picked up their mugs, and went into the warmth.

“I bet I could change your mind if I wore it with the Gothic boots.”

Yuuri spoke after a long comfortable silence when they were cuddled up on the couch later that night.

“I…” Victor became wary. He was sure there was that telltale sparkle in Yuuri’s eyes now that always meant he was plotting something. “As much as I appreciate the thought, my darling, but I have sworn off making bets for ever. I’m just not very good at it.”

Yuuri shifted in his arms so that he was able to look at him. “The boots with the sweater, Vitya. Just think about it.” His eyes were twinkling. “I could come in to the office wearing that when you’re working late. And there’s no-one in the building, just us. And you didn’t close the blinds, Vitya. It’s the top floor but you never know, someone might see… Lawrence could come up on his rounds…”

Victor swallowed hard, his eyes locked with Yuuri’s, his voice low. “Keep going.”

“Just imagine…” A hint of a smirk pursed Yuuri’s mouth. “If I wore nothing under this sweater but those boots… and you’d be in one of your sexy three-piece suits… the blue one, I love that one, it really brings out the colour of your eyes. How easy it would be for you to just bend me over your desk and push up my sweater and unzip your pants and fuck me for all the world to see.”

Victor was surprised he was able to speak at all. “Careful, my darling, you might just make me love your sweater yet.”

Yuuri smiled. “Oh, I bet.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who am I kidding. I'm crying like a baby _now._ I don't want to let this go. T_T
> 
> THANK! YOU! MILAN IN WINTER! That ice rink came in so handy, I couldn't have invented it better myself! xD
> 
> See you next week for the epilogue! 💝


	13. Epilogue - 10 Things I Love About Your Sweater

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Because there can never be enough suit sex!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. We’re here. And I’m a big sap. So I’m going to say things.
> 
> I don’t have enough words in me to express how grateful I am to each and every one of you who came with me on this journey and showered me and these boys with so much love every week. From waking up in the middle of the night with my heart racing and wanting to delete the first chapter about a hundred times to sitting here crying like a baby now because I don’t want this to be over, it’s been a quite a ride. And I was so scared of bringing Bollywood into YOI fandom and you guys loved it. Thank you all so, soooo much! Those who’ve encouraged me from the very beginning, those whose icons showed up in my inbox every week, those who newly came on board, those who _overwhelmed_ me with their response to Chapter 10, really each and every single one of who took the time to read this story - I cannot thank you enough. You’ve given me back so much I thought I’d lost as a writer. I wish I could hug every single one of you, but alas, virtual hugs will have to do. 💝❤️💞
> 
> I have fallen in love with this AU over the past couple of weeks and I refuse to let it go. So many side stories were born while I was writing this. Some might have already noticed how this is series now, so if you want to subscribe to that, you won’t miss any new stories from this universe plus you will have my undying love. These boys own my heart and soul now and they will definitely be back! Missing moments, new moments, future moments... I have a list of those and I’m going to write them. 
> 
> This has also been giving me something to hold on to and seek comfort in and keep me sane in these difficult times we’re living in. Please stay healthy and well, all of you, and let’s take good care of ourselves, our loved ones and of each other! xxx
> 
> I apologise in advance to everyone who might have expected something else from this epilogue. As usual, I have gone for the element of surprise.
> 
> I still hope you like. 💖

**Epilogue - 10 Things I Love About Your Sweater**

The lift door slid open, revealing the open office area with the posh wooden reception desk to his right. He stepped out with one long stride, passing the deserted reception. The room lay in darkness, the only light coming from the glass above the door to his right and the cone of light thrown across the carpet where the door was left half open. He was sure he’d heard typing though it had stopped now.

His heels made no sound on the carpeted floor as he walked towards the door and pushed it open.

He could see the confusion in the blue eyes across the room. How they widened slightly when he pushed the door closed with his back. He could almost hear the breath that caught when he started unbuttoning his coat.

His mouth felt dry and he licked his lips.

“You wanted to see me… _sir_?” He let his coat drop to the floor on the last word.

The change was immediate, realisation settling in, a back straightened.

The chair was pushed out behind the desk. “So I did.”

Yuuri stepped closer, a little anxiety in his step, teeth buried in his lower lip.

Victor had picked up a pen from his desk and started tapping an impatient rhythm as he watched him.

“There are a couple of things that have come to my attention.” Victor cleared his throat.

“I’ve been served lukewarm coffee for the past three days. The stamps on my mail had the wrong date.”

He glanced at a piece of paper on his desk like he had a list lying there. “You were not at your desk for unacceptable lengths of time, Mr Katsuki. The figures in the presentation I asked you to correct were all wrong.”

His eyes narrowed as he looked Yuuri up and down, took in his sweater and Gothic boots.

“Last but not least – severe violation of dress code. Anything you’ve got to say for yourself?”

Yuuri swallowed hard.

“I’m sorry, Mr Nikiforov,” he said softly. “I will accept any consequences you see fit.”

Victor looked at him for a long moment. At long last he said, “Come here!”

Yuuri stepped up to the desk and looked down at Victor, chest rising and falling with quickened breaths.

“Kiss me!”’ Victor demanded.

Yuuri leaned over him until his mouth was mere inches away from Victor’s. He kissed him softly, slipping his tongue between Victor’s lips very cautiously and licking into his mouth with softest kitten kisses that sent delicious sparks of arousal across his scalp and down the back of his neck. When he pulled away, he looked down at Victor, breathing fast, ears glowing pink.

“That was...” Victor put on a thoughtful face. “Not too bad, but I’m sure you can do better.”

His eyes narrowed. “Kiss me like a _lover_ , Mr Katsuki! Like you would kiss your boyfriend.”

Feeling Yuuri’s hesitation, his grin became positively evil. “Don’t worry. If you do a good enough job, he never needs to know.”

Yuuri swallowed hard, then nodded. “Yes, sir.”

For a long moment they just stared at each other. Victor expectant, Yuuri shy. Then something changed in Yuuri’s face, became determined, while his hand shot up and grabbed Victor’s tie. He yanked Victor towards himself by it while he leaned in at the same time, propped one knee up on the chair between Victor’s thighs and took his lips in a kiss that had Victor moan into his mouth. Tongues battled fiercely for dominance as neither one of them wanted to hand over control of the kiss. When they finally pulled apart, gasping desperately for air, a fine thread of saliva stringing between their mouths, their eyes flew open again.

Yuuri made a move to take his knee off the chair and move back but Victor’s arms shot up and his hands dug into Yuuri’s hips. One of them came down to the hem of Yuuri’s sweater and bunched the material up impatiently. Blue eyes widened when he found nothing but bare skin underneath.

“This is more than just a severe violation of dress code, this is downright dirty.” Victor’s voice sounded low and stern.

Yuuri dug his teeth into his bottom lips and whispered an apology. When he looked at Victor his eyes were huge behind his glasses. He squirmed against Victor when Victor’s hand started fondling his arse, not too gently.

“You know what I think? I think you showed up like this here tonight to gloss over the fact you made me look like a complete fool in today’s meeting.” Victor glared at him and turned his chair around to face his desk again, pulling Yuuri with him. He pointed at a half finished Excel worksheet on his computer screen.

“Look at the state of these _bar charts_! It was _your_ job to check my presentation and fix them, so why didn’t you?”

Yuuri brought one hand to his mouth feigning surprise, though in truth he had to fight down sudden laughter.

Victor shot him a warning glare. “You find this funny? I guess I’ll just have to give you a written warning.”

“Please, _please_ , Mr Nikiforov, no written warning! Please sir, I’ll be _so_ _good_!” Yuuri gave him an imploring look from wide brown eyes. Batted his lashes once. Twice.

A breathless “Jesus Christ!” was groaned out as if in pain.

“Your explanation, Mr Katsuki.” He gave Yuuri’s arse a tight squeeze. “I’m waiting!”

“I was distracted,” Yuuri said quickly.

Victor frowned. “That’s not exactly a work ethic I can condone. Distracted by what, may I ask?”

“I was…” Yuuri shrank a little under his gaze. “I was checking out my hot co-worker across the hall and sending him messages on the internal chat.”

A smile wanted to break free and was bitten back, but it was there in the way blue eyes softened for a moment.

“What kind of messages?”

“Private messages, sir.”

Fair eyebrows shot up in an unmistakably disapproving manner.

“And what exactly is so important that it cannot wait for you to tell your co-worker later? In your _private_ time?”

“They are kind of work-related.” Yuuri flushed crimson. “I needed to tell him how much I want to suck his cock while he’s in a telephone conference and I’m under his desk.”

He watched Victor’s Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed hard.

“You’re a naughty one, aren’t you?” he said at last, breathing faster.

“Yes, sir,” Yuuri whispered and lowered his head in shame.

Victor leaned in closer, his face almost touching Yuuri’s. “Do you ever think about sucking _my_ cock?”

Yuuri’s head shot up. His eyes were sparkling. “All the time, Mr Nikiforov.”

Victor groaned. He grabbed Yuuri’s hand that was holding on to the armrest of his chair for support and pushed it roughly between their bodies, on his cock. The moment Yuuri’s hand was there he pushed into it, hard and demanding.

“Take care of this for me then while I finish up this report.” He turned his chair back out and pushed Yuuri off very gently. Then he reached down to undo his pants, push down his briefs and get his cock out.

“What are you waiting for, Mr Katsuki?” he said impatiently. “Get on your knees. Pull up that atrocious sweater of yours, I want to see it around your hips. And make sure you don’t get any stains on my suit.”

Yuuri dropped down on his knees immediately, bunching his sweater around his hips in the movement, and placed his hands on Victor’s knees.

“I won’t, sir, I’ll be very careful,” he promised and looked up at Victor with shining eyes. “I’ll be really good for you, I’ve been thinking about sucking your cock for so long.”

“You’re talking too much. Put your mouth to better use.”

Victor turned his computer screen sideways so he could see it better, pulled his keyboard close and started typing. He managed to keep this up for a brave couple of minutes until he pushed the keyboard away and slid down a little in his chair, succumbing to the bliss that was Yuuri’s wet, hot mouth around his cock. Yuuri held him by the base and was just very slowly letting Victor’s cock slide from his mouth again, lapping at him with his tongue, looking in concentration at what he was doing. He jerked him off a little while he licked around the head, rubbing his tongue along the slit hungrily so as not to let any precious drop of pre-cum escape. Victor moaned, bucking his hips just the slightest bit as he watched, fascinated, how Yuuri’s plush lips closed around his cock once again, widened around the girth as he worked his way down once more, the suction just strong enough to make Victor slam the flat of his hand on his desk. Yuuri’s eyes looked up at him then, brown orbs full of desire and mischief as he hummed around his cock and the vibrations drove Victor crazy.

Victor dropped his head against the back of his chair and watched their reflection in the window through hooded eyes. The way his chair was swivelled sideways gave him the perfect view of Yuuri on his knees, the Gothic boots looking like sin already but nothing compared to the perfect paleness of Yuuri’s thighs and arse, and suddenly Victor could barely wait anymore to get between them.

He looked down when he felt cool air hit the length of his glistening wet cock that Yuuri was just releasing from his mouth again with a soft plop.

“I don’t remember saying you could stop.” Victor frowned down at him.

Yuuri licked over his lips as he leaned back on his heels.

“Please, Mr Nikiforov, will you fuck my mouth?”

Victor closed his eyes for a moment to compose himself. “Say that again,” he said quietly when he opened his eyes again. His voice sounded husky.

“Fuck my mouth, please, Mr Nikiforov. I want you to come down my throat.”

“You like that, don’t you?”

Yuuri nodded eagerly.

“I thought as much.” Victor rose from his chair and towered over Yuuri. “Unfortunately I cannot do that, because I’m going to bend you over my desk in a moment and fuck some discipline into you, and _that_ , Mr Katsuki, is where I’m going to come.”

Yuuri fought down about a dozen desperate whimpers and the fervent wish to just touch himself until he came all over the place. It would only take him about three strokes, he was sure. He opened up greedily when Victor gripped a handful of his hair with one hand, guided his cock between his lips and started driving it roughly in and out his mouth. Yuuri’s hands came up to Victor’s arse, gipping him tight as much as the sheer material allowed. It even felt expensive under Yuuri’s touch, and he tried to find a hold so he could add leverage to Victor’s thrusts into his mouth until he felt him hit the back of his throat and tears shot into this eyes from the impact.

Victor tore him off of him, breath coming in frantic gasps.

“Clear my desk, I want you over it,” Victor ordered. His voice was dark, full of lust and greed.

Yuuri scrambled to his feet and stepped closer to Victor’s desk. Quickly assessing the contents, he pushed the computer screen, keyboard and mouse and everything else breakable very carefully to one side. All the small and unbreakable things, he simply swiped down to the floor after an impatient glance from Victor. Last but not least he turned over the picture frames, because.

He had barely cleared enough space when Victor was already behind him, gave his desk chair a gentle kick out of the way, and pushed Yuuri down until he was lying with his chest over the desk. There was just enough room for him to get behind Yuuri before he hit the wall in his back. Victor grabbed Yuuri’s arse with both hands, kneading and spreading his cheeks apart in doing so.

“You have a fantastic arse, Mr Katsuki,” he murmured lowly. “I’d be lying if I said I haven’t been checking it out, wondering what it would feel like to fuck you.”

“Me too.” Yuuri sounded needy. “I’ve been wanting you to fuck me for so long, Mr Nikiforov.”

Victor leaned down until his mouth was close to Yuuri’s ear while at the same time he was teasing Yuuri with his cock between his butt cheeks.

“I hope you weren’t distracted so much you forgot to organise lube, or I might have to fuck you dry,” he said, hot words and breath straight in Yuuri’s ear.

Yuuri cursed, the crudeness of the words going straight to his cock. He was painfully hard, screaming for attention. His hands gripped the lower edge of Victor’s desk and he propped himself up a little, arms trembling under the exhaustion of holding himself up.

“In your desk, sir, second drawer from the top.” He sounded desperate. “Please, hurry!”

A hard slap came down on one of his buttocks that had him moan out loud at the pleasant sting.

“Are you forgetting your place again?” Victor reminded him.

“I was, sir. I’m sorry!” Yuuri hung his head and forced himself to breathe.

He groaned from all the way down his chest when he felt a first determined finger teasing him, tried to move into the touch, asking for more. A second finger was added, fitting easily past the breach, two fingers scissoring and stroking him smoothly from the inside. Victor leaned down when he talked to him, never stopping the slip and slide of his fingers once.

“You’re quite prepared already, have you been fingering yourself before you came here?”

“Yes, I…” Yuuri moaned out loud. “I was so excited about coming in to see you, I touched myself.”

Victor tutted. “I wish you showed this much dedication on the job. Couldn’t wait, could you?”

“No. I’ve been waiting so long for you already, Mr Nikiforov… god!” He cried out when Victor massaged his prostate with two fingers. _“Please!”_ He practically mewled. “Please fuck me, sir, I’m so ready for you!”

He heard Victor getting ready by the sound of foil ripping, more lube spread sloppily, and his breathing sped up with anticipation. His hands gripped the edge of the desk tighter, and then Victor was inching inside him and he uttered a breathless sigh of relief.

“You feel so good Mr Katsuki…” Victor murmured above him. “I should have done this a long time ago.”

Yuuri grinned into the desk below him and pushed back into Victor as best as he could, loving the overwhelmed groan he brought forth from Victor’s mouth with the move. Victor’s hands held on tight to his hips, holding him steady as he bottomed out and slammed back inside so hard that Yuuri could feel the opened zipper touch against his balls every time Victor was buried all the way inside.

“You feel good, too, Mr Nikiforov,” Yuuri forced out the words between frantic gasps. “Your cock feels even better inside me than I fantasised about all this time.” He stopped talking then because he felt Victor so deep that he could only cry out his name over and over again.

Yuuri turned his face sideways and looked at their reflection in the window, moaning at the sight. He looked absolutely shameless, bent over Victor’s desk like this, with enough space left between his cock and the edge of the table so he wouldn’t have to fear any mishaps; Victor had made sure to pull him down far enough. He was gripping the lower edge of the desk with both hands for support. His sweater was shoved up all the way to his hips, bunching around him and serving at least remotely as a cushion for his stomach. The over-knee Gothic boots just added extra naughtiness to his image with their heels and countless buckles. 

And Victor. Victor was glorious, fully dressed except for where he had gotten his cock out and buried deep inside Yuuri’s arse. How well his custom-made suits paid off now, Yuuri thought, any other pants would havejust dropped to his feet. It added so much sexiness, Yuuri could not look away. Victor’s hair hung down in his face and his tie brushed repeatedly over Yuuri’s arse and lower back as he thrust into him, the skim of a silky tip over his skin adding more sensations than Yuuri would have thought possible. 

Victor’s hand came around him, fingers closing around his cock. Yuuri groaned. He was so hard, it didn’t take long for him to come with a loud moan, jerking and spilling while Victor was still pounding him hard over his desk, faster and more erratic now, until he, too, shuddered and uttered some mindless curses. When he stepped away from Yuuri, he gave him another tight slap, and Yuuri moaned quietly and almost asked for more. He pushed himself off the desk as well as his shaking arms allowed. Standing, too, was a little difficult, his legs felt like rubber.

Yuuri grabbed some tissues he had found in the drawer and put on Victor’s desk for this moment. Wiping himself off half-heartedly he tried not to sigh quietly at the sight of Victor tucking himself in. He looked way too good, looking down on himself as he pulled up his briefs and zipped himself back up with his hair all messy and his tie all crooked. Yuuri quickly averted his eyes before he jumped the man and yanked that carefully pulled up zipper right down again. Instead, he busied himself with pulling his sweater down again and tugging it into place.

“I think I’d better… get going now,” Yuuri murmured.

Keeping his eyes lowered, he quietly headed towards the door.

“Wait!”

Yuuri turned around at the sharp command in his back.

“Where are you going?” Victor pointed at his desk and the floor. “You forgot to clean up your mess.”

“Of course, Mr Nikiforov,” he said with a remorseful smile. “I’m sorry.”

Yuuri’s face was burning, but he allowed himself the briefest giddy smile when he hurried across the hall to the kitchen for a cloth and some cleaning agent, and then set to wiping down the desk and check for any treacherous strains on the carpet. It didn’t help that Victor stepped up very close behind him, just close enough that he could feel the heat of his body but not his touch, and looked over his shoulder as if to check that he didn’t miss a spot. He gave a small nod of approval and Yuuri practically ran to the kitchen where he put the cleaning agent back in the cupboard under the sink and threw the cloth straight in the bin.

When he came back to Victor’s office again, Victor was just bending down at his desk to slide open a drawer. He took out a long forgotten pack of cigarettes with a lighter and a small ashtray and slammed the drawer shut. As he walked around Yuuri towards the sofa, he motioned his chin just the slightest bit at the scattered things on the carpet.

Victor sat down in the sofa corner closest to his desk. He crossed one leg over the other and lit up.

As Yuuri started picking up pencils and papers from the floor, he was acutely aware of Victor watching his every move from where he sat and smoked a cigarette. He sneaked in stolen glances, licked his lips absentmindedly. Victor looked _so_ hot. A waft of smoke crawled up his nostrils, and he pulled a face.

Victor caught the disapproving expression on Yuuri’s face.

“Is there a problem, Mr Katsuki?” he asked, one eyebrow raised. 

Yuuri blushed again. “No, sir,” he murmured and picked up the stapler from the floor.

He had just finished straightening out Victor’s desk when Victor stubbed out the cigarette in the small ashtray on the coffee table beside the sofa.

“That will be all,” he said quietly.

Yuuri nodded timidly and walked over to the door, where he picked up his coat from the floor, making sure to crouch down timidly instead of bending over. Standing, he turned to face Victor again, coat draped over his arm.

“Am I dismissed, sir?” he asked, blinking shyly behind his glasses.

Victor gave him the once-over and tilted his head, thinking for a moment.

“You are for now.” His eyes narrowed. “If you’re late for work again tomorrow morning, Mr Katsuki, I will have to reconsider that written warning. Or think of… other disciplinary measures.”

Yuuri put on his coat and opened the door.

“I hope that’s a promise and not a threat, Mr Nikiforov,” he said and hurried out the door.

He swung round again to mouth ‘See you at home!’, and a big, happy smile passed between them, before Yuuri headed for the elevator and Victor pushed his chair back in with a sigh and went back to work.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Yuuri was sitting on the couch in Victor’s living room cuddling with Vicchan and Makkachin when Victor came home. He had picked up Vicchan on the way (eternally grateful for friends who did not bat an eye at what he was wearing nor ask why) and showered when he got in before he changed into some comfortable sweat pants and a long-sleeved shirt.

Victor came round to his end of the couch and leaned down for a kiss, Yuuri reaching his arms up to him instinctively. Victor held Yuuri’s face with one hand for a moment longer just as Yuuri's hand lay a little longer on Victor's arm, a smile blossoming between them.

“I made some snacks in case you’re hungry,” Yuuri said. “We can eat whenever you’re ready.”

“Cuddles with all my favourite darlings first,” Victor decided, then frowned as he seemed to remember something. He took a folded sheet of paper from his pocket and a pen from his breast pocket, unfolded the paper and walked over to the kitchen door so that Yuuri couldn’t see what he scribbled on the paper, using the door frame for support.

“What’s this?” Yuuri asked when Victor came back over to the couch. “A written warning after all?”

His face changed into a pleading, eager expression with puppy dog eyes. “But Mr Nikiforov, I’ve been so _good_ for you! Please don’t fire me!”

They looked at each other and burst out laughing. Victor shrugged off his suit jacket and threw it in a nearby armchair before he slumped down on the sofa, reaching automatically for both poodles when they dove over to him enthusiastically.

“I swear to god, my darling, you nearly had me coming in my pants with all the ‘Please, please, please, Mr Nikiforov!’ How are you so good at that? Or don’t I want to know?”

Yuuri blushed and murmured something about growing up on too much hentai anime and finding the girls whimpering with pleasure while begging to stop quite a turn on.

“You will have to show me some of that sometime,” Victor said in that voice that wouldn’t take no for an answer and told Yuuri that he would never hear the end of this until he did show him.

“That was amazing tonight, by the way,” Yuuri burst out.

“It was quite the surprise, but you’re right, it _was_ amazing.” Victor looked at him for a long moment. “I’m glad I could live up to your expectations.” He winked.

“You always do!” Yuuri gushed. “I’m glad we have this. This… trust. To do something like this.”

“We do,” Victor said quietly. “I look forward to what you’ll come up with next.”

“So what is this then?” Yuuri pointed at the piece of paper now lying at the end of the couch, eager to change the subject. They were entangled in a group cuddle with their two dogs by now, but Victor let go of Vicchan to reach for the note.

“It’s a new list,” he announced. “’10 Things I _Love_ About Your Sweater.’”

“Really?” Yuuri asked, but he sounded a little breathless, and his cheeks turned a little more pink.

“Yes. Hot off the press, just completed tonight.” Victor looked exceedingly proud.

“Let’s hear it.” Yuuri kept Makka close, almost as if he needed her for support.

“Okay.” Victor cleared his throat dramatically. Of course he would, Yuuri thought, the love in his heart suddenly very close to spilling over.

“One: it’s yours.”

Yuuri smiled. Behind his glasses, his eyes were dancing.

“Two: you wore it on my first Japanese night.”

Memories stood in the room with them all of a sudden, of _sukiyaki_ and a first tentative look of ‘Are we friends?’

“Three: you wore it on our first day together.”

More memories, these ones such a whole onslaught of a weekend’s love and intimacy that Yuuri’s chest felt tight.

“Four, just in: you wore it with nothing but Gothic boots and let me shag you across my desk in it.”

Victor shot him a dirty grin. And Yuuri flushed crimson, but he smirked at the same time.

“Five: it smells of you.”

“How do you know that without secretly sniffing it?” Yuuri asked.

“I sniff it completely un-secretly and unabashedly whenever I hug you when you’re wearing it, my darling!”

Yuuri snorted quietly. Like he didn’t know that!

“Six: you love it.”

Yuuri’s throat suddenly felt tight.

“Seven: Your grandmother knitted it for you.”

And tighter.

“Eight: it’s unique.”

A smile passed between them.

“Nine: it’s yours. And no, this is not cheating, Yuuri, it’s one of the best things about it actually and should be featured even more.”

Yuuri closed his mouth again.

“Ten.” Victor nodded towards the lower end of the couch. “It looks good draped over the back of my couch.” 

He leaned forward and put the list on the coffee table in front of the couch, looking smug and accomplished.

“Vitya...” Yuuri started. He didn’t like how anxious he sounded. “That thing on your hate list about my sweater being permanently draped over the back of your couch...”

Victor stopped goofing around with Makkachin and looked at Yuuri, only his fingers carding gently through the fur behind Makka’s ears.

“That means that you want me to feel so at home in your apartment that I leave my things lying around, right? Like your toothbrush in my bathroom? Not that...”

“That I want you to move in with me?” Victor cocked his head. “Is this why you were worried just now? Because this made you nervous?”

Yuuri nodded, a little sheepishly.

“Yuuri.” Victor sent Makka off with a final pet that had her scooting off the couch. Vicchan followed her. Victor moved up closer to Yuuri so that he could take one of his hands. “It meant exactly what you said. That I want us to feel so at home in each other’s apartments that we leave our things lying around. And that even your terrible sweater is welcome. Of course it also means that I prefer you permanently naked.” He smiled a big, heart-shaped smile.

“Still a terrible sweater despite your new list?” Yuuri grinned and leaned in for a kiss.

“Oh, absolutely,” Victor beamed. “I like to think that loving your terrible favourite sweater makes me a better person.”

“I like to think that it’s not possible to make you an even better person,” Yuuri said.

“Yuuuuri…” Victor blushed a little.

Yuuri laughed. It sounded a little relieved. “I was about to remind you of how much you like my apartment too,” he admitted. “Hoping that it would help… change your mind.”

“Well, there’s nothing to change, as you can see.” Victor squeezed his hand tight. “And your apartment, Yuuri… I have so many wonderful, wholesome memories of your apartment. I want to make so many more. It’s our happy place. How could I possibly wish for you to move out?”

Yuuri pulled him closer into the sofa corner. “I’m glad,” he murmured quietly against Victor’s throat and placed a kiss there. “I was worried you might be… upset.”

“I’m not.”

“It doesn’t mean that I don’t want to move in together _some_ day,” Yuuri added, a little flustered.

“I know.” Victor smiled and brought Yuuri’s hand to his mouth for a kiss on their interlaced fingers. “And until that day, I’ll be very happy to be in and out of each other’s apartments with all our stuff all over each other’s places.”

He moved around on the couch until he lay properly in Yuuri’s arms.

"I love coming home to you, my darling," Victor said. "No matter which home."

"Sap," Yuuri said. "I love you coming home to me. No matter which home."

" _Your_ sap," Victor corrected and kissed him before he could say anything else. 

“Vitya. You lost,” Yuuri eventually said between two kisses. “I bet you I could make you love my sweater and you doubted it.”

Victor chuckled. “So I did. But we did not make a bet.”

“Because you suck at them.”

“Because I suck at them.”

Their foreheads touched as they smiled at each other. They kissed some more, legs entangled, arms wrapped around another.

“I love you.”

“I love you more.”

“Show me.”

“I’ll show you in bed.”

“All night long.”

“And then some.”

“Perfect!”

They scrambled up from the couch, snacks forgotten, as they quietly wished two poodles goodnight and turned off the light, holding hands even on the short way into the bedroom, and closed the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *sneaking in a quiet and very humble THANK YOU❣️❣️❣️ again*
> 
> Phichit and Chris’ story will hit this channel very soon! I might take one Friday night off because I’ve been pushing myself hard lately (I just have so many ideas, help!), but I still have a Regency/Victorian AU story that I will post some time next week, so if anyone wants to read Rent Boy Yuuri/Virginal Victor - watch out for my updates. I’m not good at self promotion and I know I don’t cater to “crowd favourite tropes” in this fandom, so I’ll just say I’ll be so happy and grateful and full of love for everyone who sticks around. Thank you! I ❤️ you!
> 
> *snivels*


End file.
